A Leap to the Stars
by Tiberius
Summary: Quantum Leap/Enterprise crossover. Sam Beckett leaps into Captain Archer, but is he there to save the Enterprise crew from destruction, or is there something much more sinister going on? Part XXV is now up!
1. Part I

_Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap Accelerator...and vanished..._

_He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear._

_And so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap...will be the leap home..._

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part ****I**** - Rewound the Clock**

As always, it happened in the blink of an eye. But as a wise man once said: time is relative, meaning that sometimes a single moment can seem to last a lifetime. Or beyond...

The azure lightning was blinding, as usual. But no matter how many times it took hold of him and ripped him away, the transition to a new time and place always felt..._different_. Like even though he had experienced it more times then his incomplete mind could remember, each time he was thrown out of one existence and plunged into another the incredible sensation of it all seemed to be completely new. Each and every time.

But...

...this time it _was_ different.

Yes, he could feel it, he could t_ell_, there was something...off? No, not off. Like maybe it was taking longer then usual, and that the quantum powers being enacted upon him were moving, well, differently. In fact, he was was starting to think something had gone very, very

-WRONG!" shouted the dark-haired woman in the seat beside him and as the new reality coalesced, Dr. Samuel John Beckett gasped in stale air and fought to make sense of the insanity going on around him.

He was in the cockpit of a plane, smoke half-obscuring the instruments and all of the sloping canopy, he coughed and waved a hand in front of his face, looked to his unexpected companion, "Wha-what? What's wrong?"

"The button you just hit, sir!" her accent was odd, "You pressed the-oh, never mind."

_Never mind?_ Sam blinked through his streaming eyes and saw the angled outline of her face peering forward, so he followed her gaze and saw that the smoke had partially cleared from the forward glass and

_Oh..._

They hit.

The impact was terrible, a shock beyond anything he had ever experienced, the chair he was in seemed to grip him somehow, then his narrow grey world appeared to compact and turn upside-down and backwards, all in the same instant! There was a monstrous roar and white light blazed, he felt himself be torn free of his seat and tossed like he was nothing, his head struck something hard and

...and...

_...and nothing..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

He awoke.

The sky stretched high above, bluer then the ocean and clearer then glass. Sam coughed then grimaced at the pain shooting back-and-forth between his temples like a ricocheting bullet. He slapped hands to the sides of his head and for long seconds was lost to the brutal pounding. Then at last it began to fade, at least somewhat, and he was able to think straight. Somewhat...

_That...that was awful. I mean, I've been through some pretty bad Leap-ins, but THAT... ...that was horrible. How the heck did I even survive the crash? Nothing and nobody should have made it through something like that, yet I don't think I even have a fractured rib, let-alone a broken arm or leg. So, what gives? How is this even pos_s-

A woman's voice screamed in agony!

"Oh, my god! How could I have forgot?"

Dr. Beckett sprang to his feet and forced his eyes to focus, he was in a wide-open clearing, surrounded on all sides by the thick trees of a forest, while dead-ahead the twisted remains of the plane-_his_ plane-blazed with orange-black flames at the end of a long impact crater. The woman's voice sounded again, from

_Inside! She's still inside! I was tossed free, but she wasn't!_

That was his last conscious thought, he just charged forward, vaulting a smoking chunk of debris as he ran, and sprang through a jagged hole into the smoking wreck! Instantly he was surrounded by fire, his left leg was scorched but he ignored it, just crouched and scanned his eyes back-and-forth, searching desperately for-there! Her leg!

Sam scuttled forward under a precariously hanging beam and took hold of a warped control board, heaved it upwards with all his strength. Muscles coiling beneath his tattered uniform, he straightened up and tore the panel free with a screech of metal, exposing the huddled form of his co-pilot. Her dark hair was matted to the left side of her face with green lubricant, leaving the exposed eye clenched tightly shut in pain, most likely due to her left arm which she grasped tightly to her chest. It was partially charred and two of the fingers were bent backwards in an unnatural direction.

He tossed the board away and crouched over her, gripped her shoulder, "You're going to be okay, don't worry. I'm a Doctor."

"Y-You are?" she replied in that strange flinty accent Sam's in-depth linguistic experience just couldn't place. "I was not aware th-that a medical degree was p-part of your already impressive skill-set, sir."

_Oops, overstepped myself a bit there..._

"Um...yeah, what I meant is, I have First Aid training and-"

"-and shouldn't we b-be exiting? There could be an explosion at any m-moment."

"Right! Good point!" and gathering her up in his arms he turned back to the jagged exit hole. But the fire had spread there now and the gap blazed like a lion tamer's ring of fire. _Lion tamer, there's one I haven't been yet. Knock on wood..._

Sam shut his eyes, grit his teeth, and sprang!

For a moment the roar of flames swelled and he felt the fire licking at his exposed flesh, then it was past and his eyes shot open, the clearing's purple grass rose up before him, he twisted to the side fast and landed on his shoulder, clutched the woman tight to his chest and somersaulted, there was a sudden moment of silence behind him, then-_BOOOOOM!_

As bits of fiery wreakage rained down all around them, Sam and the woman came out of their roll and skidded to a stop on the purple grass, he heaved a sigh of relief and released her, she slumped against his side and exhaled as well.

"Thank-you, sir."

"Anytime." he grinned wryly, "Wow, you were right, it exploded. That was close-wait..."

_Wait...purple grass?_

He sat up fast and peered down between his knees, and yep, the rising organic blades were a stained a brilliant shade of violet. He looked to the trees and yeah, they were purple too.

_What, is this some kind of holiday thing, like when Chicago dyes it's river green for St. Patrick's Day?_

"Um..." he dared to ask the woman he'd just saved, "...why is everything purple?"

"Why? Because it just is."

She sat up as well and placing a firm grip upon her dislocated fingers, she popped them back into place, then looked at him in concern, "That is a strange question for you to pose, sir. You might as well ask why there are three moons."

Sam blinked at her impressive feat of stamina, then did a double-take and looked up sharply, "Three moons? Huh?"

But she was right, there _were _three moons in the sky, each one larger then the last, and all of them way bigger then his own was. They stared back down at Dr. Beckett like the angry gaze of a three-eyed demi-god.

"Where...where _am_ I?"

The woman scraped the lock of hair free from her face and curled it's green-flecked length behind one ear, "Are you feeling alright, sir? Did you hit your head?"

"Where!"

She shrugged her narrow shoulders, "Fine. We are on the third planet of the Talitha Star System. Again, are you-"

"Planet?"

_Planet?_

He looked back-and-forth fast, a nervous grin splitting his face, "This is a joke, right? This is the set of a movie, or a television show. Or... Or I'm dreaming! That's gotta be it, I'm dream-" his nervous tirade was cut-off as she gripped him by the chin with surprising strength and stared deeply into his eyes.

"Captain Archer," she declared gravely, "you are babbling."

Sam Beckett pulled free of the strange woman's grip and studied her face more carefully. And discovered that her ears-they were pointed! And the cut on her forehead, that wasn't green _lubricant_ drizzling slowly from it, it was green _blood_!

His jaw sagged, "Oh, boy..."

**To be continued...**


	2. Part II

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part ****I****I - Only a Day Away**

_Stallions Gate, New Mexico, December 23rd, 1999..._

Threatening to be even more colorful then the Control Room six floors below, the decorations and lights strung from the walls and ceiling of the PQL Cafeteria glowed and twinkled gaily, as the assembled scientific staff and Military Officers milled about in pairs and groups, while "All Star" by Smash Mouth blared from unseen speakers.

Seated behind the rear-most table, Albert "Al" Calavicci hunched on the long bench and glared morosely at the un-lit tip of the cigar currently clenched between his stubby fingers.

The Rear Admiral didn't know what annoyed him more, the Cafeteria's ban on smoking, or the awful music currently assaulting his poor eardrums. Not that he didn't like rock music, he dearly loved the classics. Hell, he had even played a semi-direct hand at helping it turn from an American fad into an international obsession. But this new super-charged, octane-fast stuff pounded out too quickly even for the former 'Nam POW.

_Guess I'm finally starting to show my sixty-five years. At least it's not "Livin' La Vida Orca", or whatever. Ugh, if Tina plays that Ricky Martin CD in my quarters even ONE more time-_

"_She's into superstitions, black cats and voodoo dolls!_" the sound-system blared, "_I feel a premonition, that girl's gonna make me fall!_"

His fingers clenched, bending the long stogie into a 'V' shape. _Oi vey..._

"Al! Al!" the Project's lead Pulse Communication technician jiggled toward his location, arms outstretched and grinning like a Christmas elf high on sarsaparilla, "They're playin our song, Al! Howsabout we dance."

_Howsabout we don't_, Al rubbed at his forehead and fought not to grimace. "Tina, heh, I don't think I'm feeling that well. Might be coming down with the flu or something. So, baby, maybe we shouldn't-"

"Oh, _Al_, don't be such a stick in the mud." she seized his arms and hauled him to his feet, began dragging him to the open space in the middle of the hexagon-shaped room, where at least two of the gathered forty-three were dancing up a storm while the rest of the crowd did their very best not to pay attention.

"Tina, come on, I don't wanna. Seriously, I have a headache."

The buxom blonde giggled as she towed him toward the middle of the makeshift disco, "Heh, you never let _me_ use that excuse. Or any other, for that matter. In fact, I tried and failed to use it last night. Come on, Al, you promised you'd dance with me at the Staff Christmas party, and surprise, here we are! So, dance."

He was still resistant, "Slow dance, sure. You know me, I'm always up for a some cheek-to-cheek action, but-"

"What kind of cheeks, Admiral?" inquired a thin, mustached man innocently from the sidelines.

Al shot PQL's Head Programmer a scathing look, "Oh, _c__an_ it, Gooshie, and drink your punch."

He looked back to his now-gyrating girlfriend who was humming along to the horrible lyrics. For a moment Al was struck breathless by the bouncing parts of her anatomy, but he was knocked back to reality by a sudden high-pitched squealing coming from the pocket of his vermillion sports jacket. He fought not to grin and stuffed a hand into it, pulled the blinking handlink free.

Tina scowled and stopped dancing, "Oh no, don't you _dare_!"

Al shrugged, feigning disappointment, "Sorry, babe, but duty calls." and hustling past her he headed for the exit, moving a bit faster then his normal walking speed.

"Al!" she shouted at his back, "Al, you come back here!"

But the widely-grinning Rear Admiral knifed through the half-open doors and into the white-walled corridor, then broke into a run for the nearest elevator. _Thank-you, Ziggy! I owe you BIG TIME!_

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Six levels below..._

The doors split and the serenely happy Italian strode forth into the twilight-lit Control Room, smoke billowing from the tip of the now-lit cigar. He nodded to the Ensign manning the boxy control panel, then looked to the ceiling, "Okay, Ziggy, this had better be good. Tina is ready to have puppies down there."

"_According to my anatomical data, Admiral, that would be physically impossible. Last time I checked, Miss Martinez-O'Farrell is human, not canine, making it highly improbable for her womb to be able to bear pups. In fact, I believe that the term hound-dog would actually apply to YOU, not her._"

"Oh, haha." Al glowered at the parallel hybrid computer's suspended compu-sphere, "Look, are you going to tell me why you pulled me away from the party, or not?"

"_Of course, Admiral. The reason I summoned you up here is because somebody has appeared in the Waiting Room._"

"Oh?" he exhaled smoke out his nostrils in relief, "So, Sam finally put down, huh? Good, about darn time he showed up." While for Dr. Beckett the time between leaps appeared to be mere moments, for the Project supporting him sometimes days or even weeks passed before they could locate where and when he had traveled to, making for lots of overtime for Ziggy's support team, as well as many sleepless nights for the Rear Admiral. But this time it had only been nineteen hours since Sam had finished his last "assignment" and vanished.

_And a better moment for him to show up I can't remember_, Al puffed on his mostly-straightened stogie, _though Tina would-and probably will-disagree..._

"So, where is he?"

"_As I told you, Admiral, in the Waiting Room. You know, down the hallway, third door on the right._"

"No, not the nozzle Sam Leaped into, you dolt!" Al rolled his eyes, "Where is Sam himself!"

But amazingly, the artificial intelligence made no reply. Indeed, the seconds continued to pass and the two of them, garishly-glowing hybrid computer and swarthy homosapien, fought a staring contest that would have confused even Freud, until the tobacco-addicted Naval Officer finally gave in.

"Ziggy! What the _heck_ is going on here?"

"_...Admiral...I-you will just have to go see for yourself._"

"For myself? Whatever then, you stupid box of after-market parts." he scowled, then squared his shoulders and turned about, headed for the Imaging Chamber, muttering hexes under his breath.

But Ziggy called him back, "_Um, Admiral, no._"

Al whirled back around, "No? No? Look, have you gone bonkers? Did Gooshie slip you a slug of the spiked-punch and chicken-fry your circuits? How the hell am I supposed to 'see for myself' if I don't go into the Imaging Chamber?"

"_Because at this moment I firmly believe that your presence would be better served in the Waiting Room__._"

"Why?"

"_As I said, you will just have to see for yourself._"

"Ziggy!"

"_Admiral..._"

Al glared at the pulsating sphere, then spat a line of smoke-rings up at it and stalked out of the Control Room and into the connecting corridor. By the time he turned the corner leading to the WR he was ready to chew steel, but all thoughts of strangling the hybrid computer vanished like the wind as he caught sight of the woman standing at the Waiting Room portal, while a pair of uniformed MPs stood off to the side.

He halted and hastily stubbed out his cigar, "Donna? Uh, heh, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be, um, up at the party?"

"Ziggy asked me to come down here." she said in an oddly-quiet voice.

"He did?" _I'm gonna KILL that stupid toaster! I'm gonna bash in his boards with a poker. That's if I actually had a poker. Okay, what can I use? Maybe a fire extinguisher..._

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with him, Ziggy shouldn't have done that."

"Al?" Dr. Elesee asked absently, never taking her eyes from the thin rectangle of retractable one-way glass that allowed somebody outside the WR to observe it's occupant without being seen, "Why do you always call Ziggy a 'he', when the computer has an obviously female voice and personality?"

"What? Um, well, I dunno, because...because..." he scratched his chin, "Look, Donna, are you okay? Because you sound...odd."

"With good reason."

Her tone of voice, combined with Ziggy's evasiveness, was really starting to give the Admiral the creeps, "Okay, what gives? Why are you up here? You never come to the Waiting Room-"

"Actually, I come here all the time."

The Admiral blinked, surprised, "You do? I didn't know that."

"You weren't supposed to, Al, because I knew it would depress you."

"Depress _me_? But you're the one who-um, I mean...uh..."

"I _know_ what you mean." Donna said severely, still galvanized to the strip of glass, "I'm the one who's husband has been lost in time for nearly five years, except that if I ever want to see him all I have to do is come up here to the Waiting Room, and _there_ he is. Or, rather, some stranger ripped from the past who I've never met is inside projecting Sam's perfect aura."

"Well, not to me." Al said firmly, stabbing the air with his crooked and half-crushed stogie, "The mesons and neurons linking Sam and me allow me to see past the aura and view the true face of whoever's in the WR."

"Care to bet on that?" chuckled Dr. Beckett's temporally-estranged wife, but her tone was completely lacking in mirth of any kind.

"Huh? What the _devil _are you talking about? Okay, has every woman in this facility gone wacko-jacko? Tina's trying to wash out my brain with Ricky Martin, Ziggy's gone wiggy, and now you're up here torturing yourself by looking at Sam! And it's not really Sam! It's-"

"Al!" growled Donna.

"WHAT!"

"Look!" and she stepped out of the way, pointed at the glass.

He rolled his eyes and stomped forward, halted before the magnetically-secured portal and peered through. The white-clad occupant was standing with his back to the door and staring at the blue wall, while leaning against the Waiting Room's only piece of furniture, a high mirrored table mounted atop a ramped dais, which the Rear Admiral's best arguments had yet to have removed, as the Project's lead psychologist Dr. Beeks was adamant the Leapee needed to see Sam's reflection.

_Like they need any MORE shocks to the system, being ripped out of their own time and place and clothes to be plunged into a glowing blue chamber, complete with a skin-tight white leotard that never seems to get dirty,_ scowled the Admiral.

"I don't understand, Donna, it's just some guy, like it almost always is. Yay for Sam, 'cause I don't think he can take being any more women."

"Just wait a moment."

"For what?" Al was about ready to burst here, and-wait, this new guy, his bearing showed him to be annoyed and bored, not the usual state of somebody newly-arrived to the WR. More often then not they appeared scared and nervous, and they couldn't stop looking at...at...

_Why isn't he looking at his reflection?_

Donna fidgeted beside him, "You're asking yourself why he isn't looking at himself in the table, right? Why he isn't trying to figure out why the face of Sam has somehow been switched for his own."

"Yeah...it seems sort of-"

"-odd? Hah, Al, you don't know the _half _of it."

"What do you mean-" and then he saw, as the guy at last turned around.

Al gawked in astonishment, blinked, rubbed at his eyes. It-It was Sam!

"Ohhh, now I get it, it's not everybody else who's gone nuts, it's _me_! I knew depriving myself of cigars could lead to this. Stupid Christmas party. But how'd it happen so fast?"

"How'd _what_ happen so fast?" Dr. Elesee was confused.

"My mental link to Sam that allows me to see him instead of the person he's Leaped into, and vice versa with the people in the Waiting Room. It's not working. I must be over-tired or something."

"Al! Your link is working just fine! It's the man in the Room! He looks _exactly_ like Sam! Or nearly."

"What?" the Admiral peered through the glass again.

Donna joined him, "See?" and she pressed a key set into the portal's control panel, and the glass polarized with quantum energy, filtering out her husband's aura, leaving behind a near-duplicate of Sam Beckett. Only he looked to be about ten years older then the Doctor, and the white streak was missing from his wavy hair.

"Wha-is it Sam's father?" Al guessed desperately, "He and Sam are dead-ringers for each other, you know. And he's bumped into him at least twice so far, back in time."

Donna shook her head, "Yes, I know he has. But no, that's not Sam's father. He says his name is Jonathan-"

"Hah!" cheered Al, "That's it, it IS him! Sam's father is named John!"

"Not J-O-H-N." she spelled, "It's Jonathan. J-O-N-A-"

"I _know_ how to spell Jonathan. But maybe his mind is swiss-cheesed. Wait, of course it's swiss-cheesed, it always is."

"I know that, but this man says he is a Captain."

"A Captain? A Captain of what?"

Dr. Elesee chewed her lip, "Um..."

"Will all you females STOP holding back on the info! I know it's a personality quirk of your gender, but your only supposed to do it for romantic purposes, not in matters of life-and-death! Because every second you hold out on me, is another second Sam's back wherever the heck in time he is, working blind! I need to know what's going on, for his sake _and_ ours, and I need to know it NOW!"

Donna fumed, "Are you done?"

"Pretty much."

"Good. Because so am I." and she turned on her heel and stalked away.

Al gaped at the retreating Dr. Elesee as she turned the corner and vanished, but he didn't try to call her back. In fact, he felt relieved she was gone now, because it was making the whole situation much too personal, and if ever there was a time to handle everything with kid gloves it was _now_. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, then nodded to the waiting MPs and typed a command into the door's controls. They gripped the butts of their automatics as the portal opened, but he stepped through without incident and the entrance sealed up again behind him.

The man Dr. Beckett had Leaped into turned about and fixed him with an appraising stare. "So...who are you supposed to be?" he asked in a voice _exactly_ the same as Sam's, albeit a trace harder and reeking of Military discipline.

Al exhaled darkly, "Oh, boy..."

**To be continued...**


	3. Part III

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part I****I****I - All is Not Lost**

_The third planet of the Talitha Star System..._

Sam Beckett stood in the middle of the clearing as the first indications of fouler weather began to stir in the form of a rising breeze, and tried to decide what was more incredible of the three amazing revelations this Leap so far had offered up for his awe-struck examination: that he was now on a world _not_ the planet Earth; that his companion here wasn't even _human_; or that sitting right in front of him was an honest-to-goodness space ship!

Sure, it was a melted and charred wreck, half-buried in the ground, but it was a craft barely bigger then a bread truck that was capable of interstellar travel!

_What did the woman with the pointed ears call it before she left to find a water source to clean up in? Right, a shuttlepod. Wow...just WOW!_

Sam's saucered eyes traveled across the line of the totaled ship's engine section, absorbing anything and everything he could about it's aerodynamics and shape. _And the way she referred to it, like it was as common to her as a car is to me. Like there's a hundred thousand more of them out there, cruising up and down the space lanes, complete with shuttlepod gas stations and shuttlepod part stores selling mud-flaps. It's just--just mind-boggling!_

He tore his eyes off of the pod and stared skyward again at the three huge moons slowly moving across a sea of stars that were totally alien to him. Really, truly alien. Through all his Leaping, that had been one of the very few constants, something even more concrete then Al showing up to help him through it all: the constellations. No matter how swiss-cheesed his brain got, no matter how much of his memory seemed to be completely inaccessible, he could always remember each and every star's name, and know instantly where to locate them in the night-sky. When the whole world seemed to be hell-bent on wiping Sam Beckett from existence, when he desperately needed the Arabian Nights bottle of the Imaging Chamber door to come sliding upwards, spilling it's cigar-chomping Genii forth to dispel all his doubts and save the day yet again with some brilliant piece of obscure data, when all that _refused _to happen and the darkness and cold seemed to press tighter and _tighter_ until Sam was ready to SCREAM... ...he still had the stars.

Yep, all he had had to do was look up and there they would be, beaming down on him like the warm smiles of old friends, everything in it's place, and a place for everything, especially him. And he would feel better, because whether it was 1955 or 1995, whether he was in Memphis or he was in Russia, whether he was even male or _female_, the stars...the _stars_...they were always there and they were ALWAYS the same!

But now they were gone.

And a new field of constellations peaked down at him from the darkening sky of an alien world.

Now...he was truly alone...

He wasn't even in the past anymore, he was in the _future_!

_Al... Al, how can you even find me here? Ziggy only knows to search in the past, I can't possibly see how she could even HOPE to find me in the future, on an alien world in the Talitha Star System, no less. I mean, I designed her, I gave her life, and I can't even CONCEIVE of how she could ever even begin to locate me!_

_...or even if she should..._

Sam lowered his gaze from the alien vista and felt a chill shoot up-and-down his spine that had nothing whatsoever to do with the rising wind. Because that was a very valid point. Sure, up to this point his job, or assignment, or whatever, it had been all about putting right what had once gone wrong in the past. He and Al had been from the future, so they had a somewhat clear picture of what was wrong and what was right when it came to making alterations to the timeline. Like when he had Leaped into Jimmy LaMotta there had been no question helping him get and keep a real job had been the right thing to do. And when he'd become Victor Panzini the trapeze artist, not for _one_ second had he or Al thought of just giving up, because Victor's sister had died needlessly in the original history, destroying the lives of her father and brother in the process. And Tom! Yes, Tom! His own brother had been betrayed in Vietnam and murdered! But Sam had fixed all that. The changes he had made had corrected that gross mistake, and Tom Beckett had come home. His death had been wrong, it never should have happened, and now because of Sam's intervention it never HAD!

What had once gone terribly wrong, Sam Beckett and Al Calavicci made _right_.

But...

_But..._

"But this isn't a situation where something once _went_ wrong." he said to the waving branches of the purple trees and the rising howl of the alien wind, "This is a situation where something _will_ go wrong, something that hasn't even HAPPENED yet. How the hell am I supposed to anticipate that?! How am I even supposed to know what to do? And even if Al _can_ find me, what can he possibly tell me? Ziggy usually takes forever and a _day_ predicting what to do about the past, so how in HELL is she supposed to predict what the future needs to put itself right? Dammit," he shook his head in vexation, "the future should be able to take care of itself."

_I still wish Al was here though, even if he'd be no help. Because... Because I need him. God, do I need him..._

"Al, where are you?"

"Where is who?"

Sam turned around and watched the alien woman duck under a branch and step free of the forest. Her hair was wet and plastered back against her skull, making her seem somehow even _more_ exotic. There was no more trace of the green blood, but her ears were still pointed like a Christmas elf's, and her eyebrows--_wow, didn't even notice her eyebrows before. Jeez, does that hurt, to have them sloping upwards at such a severe angle? Wait, of course it doesn't, what a dumb thing to think, what's wrong with me? I need to concentrate here, because I don't even know her name and for the life of me I can't think of how to make her tell me it. It's not like I can tell her I don't remember it because of a head injury or something--oh, wait..._

He rubbed thoughtfully at his skull as if it was paining him, which actually it still was. "Um, heh, look, I'm sure you're going to think this sounds awfully weird, but..."

"Yes?"

"Well, things are a bit foggy for me, from the crash and getting thrown--both times, and, well..."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I sort of don't remember your name."

She cocked her head, dark eyes wide, "You don't? You are suffering from neural trauma? Partial amnesia?"

_Lady, you don't know the HALF of it!_ "Yep," he nodded with a fake frown, "guess I'm going through a bit of a memory loss."

She nodded and stepped forward, "Understood. Here, let me see what I can do." and she raised her hands and reached for the sides of his head.

"Huh? What are you doing?"

"Initiating a Meld."

"Initiating a what-now?!"

She blinked and lowered her hands, "Captain, I assure you that while I am still relatively new to the process, I can still produce a proper enough connection to access any mental damage you have received, and perhaps even correct some of it. Maybe even all. And there would be absolutely no danger to your person."

_Holy--no danger to me? Huh, wanna bet? Wow, when I Leap into the middle of a B-movie I do it all the way! So far we got weird mind powers and space ships! Next up will be ray-guns and teleportation..._

She raised her hands again but Sam caught her wrists before she could make contact, gently pulled them back down, "Look, I'm okay, really and truly, no need for a Neld-"

"A Meld." she said, wincing slightly at their physical contact.

"Right, a Meld. Exactly. See? I'm putting it all back together on my own. I'm the Captain and you're one of my Officers, we flew here from outer space in a shuttlepod and crashed and you have green blood. See? No need to pick my brain, okay?" he nodded and released her, "Okay..."

Her lips thinned in disapproval, but she nodded and stepped back, "Understood, I suppose. But, do you remember my name yet?"

"Um...no?"

"Then I really should-"

"No! No Meld! That's an order, Lieutenant-"

"Commander."

"Right, Commander. Commander...?"

"T'Pol?"

Sam frowned dubiously, "Really?"

"Yes. Why, do you suddenly have a problem with my being from Vulcan and having a very traditional Vulcan name?"

_Vulcan, yay! Name and species in almost the same breath, not bad at all!_

Sam crossed his arms and assumed what he prayed was an image of authority, "No, of course not, T'Pol, I would never feel that way about you. You are a close friend and...and a valued Officer. I have nothing but respect for you, both as a person _and_ as a Vulcanoid."

_Vulcanoid? _T'Pol pursed her full lips thoughtfully. _His concussion must be even more severe then I first assumed. My ability to Meld is still mostly at the level of a Novice, so if the Captain is suffering from THIS much amnesia then most likely I can do little to personally aid him. Which means I must get him back to the ship as soon as physically possible, else he might...die..._

And after all they had been through together there was no way she was going to let that happen.

"Sir, may I have your communicator?"

Sam frowned, "My what?"

"Sir...do you not know what a communicator is?"

"Of _course_ I know what a communicator is." he felt his pockets, then noticed her gaze appeared focused on his upper-arm and did his best to nonchalantly unzip the pocket there and extract a rectangular device. "Here you go."

She took it and nodded, "Thank-you, sir."

"Um...what happened to yours?"

"I must have lost it in the crash as I no longer can find it on my person."

Sam looked her very form-fitting garment up and down, "Heh, surprised you have any room for one, considering how tight your...your...uh..."

T'Pol fixed him with a hard stare, "How tight my...what?"

"Um, nevermind, doesn't matter. Just get to communicating, Commander."

"...Understood." and she turned away, flipped the device open. She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated and looked back over her shoulder, caught him watching her movements with the comlink with great interest, like...like...

_Like he has never seen a communicator before..._

She peered at Captain Archer's face, but it was very odd, none of the signs were there. If he had truly hurt his head badly there would be a bruise, or matted blood, but his hair seemed to be perfectly in place and there was no sign of any abrasions. Not that he needed to display any to have such an injury, but considering the circumstances it made sense that there would at least be somekind of a discoloration.

_He does not appear to be dizzy, or lacking in emotion, which are both prime indicators of neural trauma. His eyes seem very focused and he has yet to vomit. And he recalls all the events of the crash, and isn't it the most recent memories that are the first to fail, not deeply embedding things like the name of his First Officer whom which he had served for years with? No slurred speech, either. In fact, if anything his vocabulary and word usage seems more uniform, more focused. Hmmm..._

It was very odd to think so, and perhaps even slightly rude, but T'Pol somehow felt the Captain was coming across as much more of an intellectual equal. For sure, Jonathan Archer was a uniquely skilled and trained individual, vastly capable in his job as Captain and a true leader of men and a master of battle tactics. But for some bizarre reason T'Pol felt that if she was to pose a really complex scientific question to him right now he would be able to easily answer it. She had no basis in logical fact for such a strange supposition, but there was something about the man's eyes, ever since the crash. They were somehow...sharper? Yes, sharper. Archer was extremely clever for a human, resourceful and a potent problem-solver, but on rare occasions T'Pol had encountered beings capable of a level of intelligence so extreme that they could be considered geniuses of the first order, far beyond even most Vulcan scholars.

_Like Arik Soong, or Ensign Sato when she's dealing with linguistics. Nobody can gain intelligence from a head injury. No...something is very wrong here,_ the Vulcan Science Officer decided darkly, _and it is not just his intelligence, it's his whole manner. He's much more eager to please, eager to help no matter what. Archer has a hero complex for sure, but this goes above and beyond. Yet he seems very paranoid and guarded. And somehow younger, though that makes no sense at all. It is like...like he isn't even himself anymore, that somehow Captain Archer has been replaced with an exact physical duplicate, or...or..._

T'Pol flipped the communicator shut and licked her lips carefully, "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I know this will seem like a strange question to ask, but..."

"Yes, Commander?"

"But...who exactly are-" _PHWAMMMM! _A beam of red energy sizzled between them and detonated a tree trunk four meters on their right!

Both their heads swung to the left as a party of burly-looking nomadic men in leather armor burst from the plum-colored treeline, jaggedly-built rifles at the ready.

"Incredible!" breathed the Vulcan Commander, "A few of the Klingon renegades somehow managed to survive the destruction of their raptor."

Sam gaped in astonishment, "Klingons renegades?! What in Heaven's Name are Klingons?!"

T'Pol whipped her gaze back to him sharply, "I knew it. You are _not_ Captain Archer."

He met her cold stare and swallowed hard, "Umm..."

Then another beam struck at their feet and everything exploded!

**To be continued...**


	4. Part IV

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part IV - Never Was There Ever**

_Inside the subterranean walls of Project Quantum Leap..._

The mirrored surface of the Waiting Room's raised table now stood between the two men, but it had not been the displaced Jonathan that had changed positions in order to place them on either sides of a barrier, it had been the Admiral.

At least, that's what the odd man in the retro clothing had told Jonathan, that he was a Rear Admiral with a commission in the United States Navy. _An Admiral who smokes very noxious and very illegal tobacco in poorly ventilated rooms with no ash-trays or windows. And since when has there been any Naval Flag Officers?_

_What the hell is going on here?_

"What's your name, son?" the craggy-faced maybe-Admiral asked in a somewhat friendly fashion.

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, something was off here, and it wasn't just his sudden displacement. It was like this man was very used to doing interrogations, but something was bothering the older man, something had him...had him scared? Yes, that was it.

_I frighten him,_ Jonathan realized, _and he's not used to being frightened. Especially not in this room. In fact, he's doing his very best to project a feeling of safety for me, that he's here to help me, and not vice versa. Or at least, that's what he usually does--wait, is that it? Am I not the only one they've kidnapped like this? Yes, I'll bet that's true, I'd bet anything it is. In fact, I bet this Admiral kidnaps people for a living. But how on Earth did he get his hands on me? None of this makes sense. I was traveling in a shuttlepod with...with somebody... A woman? Yes! A woman. My First Officer. But why can't I remember her name? I can see her face, plain as I can see my own in this table, so why the hell can't I remember-_

"My face..."

The Admiral leaned forward, eyes narrowing carefully, "What about it."

Jonathan ran hands through his hair, "What's with this white streak? Was I struck with an energy blast?"

"Energy blast?" the Rear Admiral leaned back on the balls of his feet and puffed on his cigar.

"Do you _really_ have to smoke that in here?"

"Why not? The ventilation system is top-notch, I promise you. Oh, having a 'ventilation system' means the air is cleaned automatically-"

"I _know_ what a ventilation system is, Admiral."

"Really? Oh, good. Know what a Delorean is?"

"An automobile right? From the...the 1980s? Why, you thinking of acquiring one?"

Another puff on the stogie, "Maybe. Maybe a silver one that can fly. You know, like in that movie. Always liked that movie. You know the one? What was the movie called?"

"Movie? What? Why are you asking me about movies?" Jonathan's scowl deepened, _he's pumping me for information, but for what kind of info I just can't fathom. Antique transportation and popular entertainment history? Is he going to try and sell me something? If so, weird way to butter-up a customer, what with all the kidnapping and hair-dying..._

Al chewed the end of his cigar, "Getting back to these energy blasts..."

"You want to know our weapon capabilities?"

"Who's we?"

"Star-" but Jonathan broke-off fast and cocked his head, shot the Admiral a sly grin, "You don't know, do you?"

Another toxic drag, "Don't know what?"

Jonathan squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, "We crashed, didn't we. I was pretty sure we'd managed to deal the Klingons a killing blow, but the shuttlepod was damaged and--Klingons!" he pounded the reflective table with his fist, "That's right! We were being chased by the Klingons!"

"That's fascinating. And these...Klingons? They are, what, some kind of Asian security force?"

Jonathan stared at the Admiral cockeyed, "Are you _feeling_ alright?"

"I was about to ask you the same question, Captain. Would you like a glass of water? One of the MPs can get it for you."

"No! I do not want a glass of water!"

"No need to shout, we're all friends here-"

"Are we? _Are_ we? That's strange, because I'm not usually friends with people who abduct me. And where is my First Officer!"

"I'll bite, where is she?"

"You _tell_ me, you're the one holding her!"

"I am not!" snapped the Admiral.

"Oh. Well, was she...was she killed in the crash?" Jonathan didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer.

"What crash?"

"The one you found me in! Okay, I have had enough of this! I demand to speak to your superior!"

"I'm a Rear Admiral, Captain. I'm about as high-up as you can get round these desolate parts." Al absently stubbed out his cigar, then changed his mind, dug out his lighter and lit it again, "Let's see, after me comes Congress, I guess, and of course the President. Why do you need to talk to somebody high-up, Captain?" he cocked his head and puffed out another cloud of smoke, "Is there something you need to report? Because, heh, you can tell it to me."

"I'm not telling you anything." growled Jonathan, "Nice try, but I've been trained to resist interrogation, as well as torture, if that's what's waiting for me in the next room."

"Nothing is waiting for you in the next room, Captain. For you this is it, until you go back home."

Jonathan leaned forward, knuckles on the table, and fixed the Admiral with a glare, "And when exactly will that be?"

"Just as soon as I can tell my friend what needs to be corrected. Which depends on you answering a few basic questions. Nothing top-secret or restricted of course, I promise you. In fact, what I probably need to know most likely is something of a personal nature."

"A personal nature? What, like my shoe size?"

The Rear Admiral chuckled, "No, not your shoe size. But perhaps something about somebody in your family, or maybe one of your friends."

"My friends? Family? What kind of interrogation IS this?!"

"Who said it's an interrogation? I'm just here to help, we all are."

"And who exactly are we?"

"I think I asked _you_ that question before."

"And I'm still not answering it." Jonathan stalked down the dias's ramp and began to pace back-and-forth in front of the exit portal.

"You sorta did." Al followed him down, "You said something about stars." He was about to say more, but something suddenly seemed to occur to the Admiral, something dire, his eyes widened. "Wait...you aren't an astronaut, are you?"

_Oh, great! What if Sam is stranded in orbit somewhere, aboard an orbiter, or maybe a space shuttle! But that still doesn't explain why this guy is a dead-ringer for him, except older. Huh, maybe he's right, and I DO need to take him to the Torture Chamber. Too bad we don't have one, not that Tina hasn't been begging for it..._

He decided to try a different tact, "You said that you're a Captain."

"And _you_ said you were an Admiral. Not that I believe it for a second."

"You wouldn't be the first, trust me."

"Not likely."

"Heh." chuckled Al, "But, getting back to it, you're a Captain?"

"Yes."

"And your first name is Jonathan?" Sam's double nodded, and Al pushed on, "Okay, and your last name is?"

"It's-" Jonathan halted his pacing for a moment and blinked, he seemed to be searching his memory, "Uh...I don't understand. I should know it, I mean, I have one. It's Captain Jonathan...Jonathan..." he scratched his head, while his stomach twisted itself into tight knots.

"Come on, keep trying, I'm sure it will come to you."

The Captain looked up sharply, "You don't know it, do you? My last name, you don't know it either. Is this Talitha?"

"Talitha?" frowned the Admiral, "What's that? One of the Greek islands? I've been to a few of them back when I was an Ensign, but never to one called that, I don't recall. Mmmm, those Greek girls. Now _they_ I remember. Soft as spiced wine and twice as smooth."

"Are you for real?"

"You know, my girlfriend seems to ask me that on a daily basis."

"Have you done something to me? Like a mind probe? Is that why I can't remember?"

The Admiral shook his head, "Nope, no probing, mind or otherwise. I hope you're not thinking this is ET's space-ship and I've taken you aboard to implant you, or some other kind of disgusting thing. Because there's no such thing as aliens, I promise you."

"No such thing...as aliens..." Jonathan repeated slowly.

"Nope. No Martians, no Wookies, and none of those campy 'Stargate' ones with the snake inside and the gold license plate on the forehead either. I swear."

"Wookies..."

"You _do_ know what a Wookie is? And you've heard of 'Stargate', right?"

"Heard of a star gate? What is that, some kind of Warp Drive accelerator?"

Al blinked, _Warp Drive Accelerator? Energy blasts? Heh, the way this guy talks, it's like he thinks he's from the...the..._

_...the future..._

The cigar sagged in his suddenly white-knuckled grip.

"Captain! What year is it?"

"Excuse me?"

"That can't be restricted information! Please, tell me. What _year_ is it?"

Jonathan shrugged, "It's 2155, but I don't see how that can possibly matter--what? What did I say?"

The Rear Admiral's face had gone as pale as his knuckles. He backed up a step, looked wildly back-and-forth, then "GUARDS!"

"Guards?" Jonathan gaped at him, "Why do you need guards? What's wrong?"

The portal on the other side of the dais slid open and the two MPs charged in, weapons drawn. In a flash they leveled them at Jonathan, glared dangerously down the length of the .45 barrels. The Captain looked them up-and-down, studying their uniforms, then the weapons themselves. And his eyes went wide.

"Oh, no... Not _again_..."

"What's your orders, sir!" demanded the Corporal on the left.

"Nothing!" replied the Rear Admiral, "Just keep your weapons leveled on him!"

He scuttled past Jonathan, keeping as much distance as physically possible between them. He got to the door and dashed out, called his men back. They backed out, guns never wavering, then the guard on the right punched the portal controls.

Jonathan's face twisted, "Wait! What year is it for you-" but the door sealed, cutting his words off.

Out in the corridor, Al stared at the thin panel of glass as Sam's doppelganger tried to peer through it while he pounded his fists on the door. He couldn't hear what the Captain was saying, but he could probably _guess_. Not that he wanted to, nope, not at all, he didn't to know _any_ of it, not one WORD!

_But what if I've already heard too much? What if it's true, and this guy is actually from the future?! Does that mean that Sam...that Sam......is..._

"...in the future?" he asked PQL's ozone-smelling air.

"Future, sir?" asked one of the guards.

"At ease, Corporal." snapped the Admiral.

"But-"

"That's an order, son! And tell _nobody_ what you've heard, do you understand? That goes for _both_ of you boys! Or I'll have your hairy butts at the bottom of an Alaskan missile silo before the day is up, understood?"

"Understood! Sir!" they snapped to attention.

"Good. I'm glad somebody around here understands. 'Cause I sure the hell don't..."

And rubbing his head, Al turned about and headed back to the Control Room...

**To be continued...**


	5. Part V

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part V - Right Behind the Rain**

_Talitha..._

One of the goateed aliens with the jutting foreheads slid to a halt and took aim with his pug-barreled rifle, fired! And the ground directly between Dr. Beckett and the Vulcan Commander _exploded_ upwards, sending them both flying backwards, off their feet!

Sam landed hard on his elbows and haunches, gasping in shock, and slid to a halt beside the wreck of the shuttlepod. Unfortunately, T'Pol did not fare as well. As the Leaper watched helplessly, the slim woman slammed down on her right side with a loud _crunch_ and slumped over face-down, her left arm bent almost completely backwards.

_Bet she can't grit her teeth and pop THAT back into place, _Sam's half-stunned mind managed to spit forth into his frontal lobe, and he was instantly disgusted with himself for thinking such a morose thing about somebody who obviously was a good person at heart.

_That's if she even HAS a heart!_

"Dammit, what the hecks wrong with me? Okay, Sam, you need to focus here because-" a crimson beam sizzled over his head "-because if you DON'T then you're gonna DIE!"

And he crabbed backwards as fast as he could, turned about and sprang desperately into the still-smoldering wreck of the shuttlepod, vanishing into the greasy waves of dirty smoke it was still giving off. A moment later one of the Klingons roared to a stop in front of the derelict, his slash of a mouth livid, his blood-shot eyes furious.

"_Dor-sho-gha_!" snarled the heavily-muscled Warrior as his other four companions clustered around the Vulcan female, "So... The great Jonathan Archer is a coward who hides like a _bIHnuch_ from honorable combat, leaving his woman to the savage mercy of his enemies!"

"Who said we were enemies!" Sam shouted from inside the wreck.

"Koeroth, Son of Tollg says you are! Come out, Captain! Come out and meet your DOOM!"

"Um...why don't you come in? Unless of course you're too busy 'savaging' defenseless women. If that's what somebody 'honorable' does."

"_QI'yaH_!" Koeroth opened up with his disruptor rifle, peppering the downed shuttlepod with rapid-fire shots, "You DARE to insult a member of the House of Tollg!" he let go of the trigger and snapped the weapon up, "I will ventilate your stinking hide and have my woman wear it like a frock!"

"It won't fit!" his nemesis impossibly answered, "Because she's way too fat!"

"Wha--you aren't dead?! How is this possible?" Behind the Klingon, his fellow survivors began to chortle with laughter, Koeroth turned around and glared at them, "Be SILENT! Or I will cut out your foul tongues and sew them into a belt!"

But he whipped back around as Sam added his own laughter from the smokey depths of his junked haven.

"Koe, old buddy, you _really _need to find a new source of clothing material." and Sam jumped out of the wreck, landed in a crouch and swung up the weapon he'd managed to scrounge, "Either way, nice knowing you, pal!" and he FIRED!

And the burly Klingon grunted as the beam stuck him in the chest. Slightly. Then he looked back at the man he perceived to be Archer. And grinned.

Sam frowned and looked down at the chromed ray-gun, "Huh, I'd kind of hoped it would pack a slightly bigger punch."

Koeroth laughed, "You will need a higher setting then THAT, human, if you hope to even _singe_ the flesh of a venerable Warrior such as I!"

The false Captain studied the weapon intently, but was at a loss to understand how to adjust it to a higher power, if was even the gun was capable of such a thing. Sure, there were some embedded keys, but who knew what they did? They might discharge it's magazine, or even make it explode!

_Oh, I am so screwed here..._

"Ummm...I surrender?" he chucked the gun at Koeroth's heavily-booted feet.

But the Klingon bellowed with laughter again! In fact, he threw back his head and slapped his chest, while his companions stepped up beside him, also roaring in high amusement at the human's predicament.

Sam grinned nervously and contributed a chuckle of his own, "Uh, let me guess: you Klingons don't take prisoners."

"Not today, Captain!" Koeroth wiped at his streaming eyes, "Not today!"

"Huh...well, actually I thought as much."

"You did?"

"Yep."

"Then why disgrace yourself and offer your surrender?" asked the Klingon.

"To distract you."

Koeroth's laughing halted, "From what?"

"From me." said T'Pol and she reached through the Warrior's legs, snatched up the discarded phase pistol. Flipping it to 'KILL' she up-ended the barrel and shot the Klingon point-blank in the crotch!

Koeroth squealed like a stuck pig and pitched over, clutching at his freshly-cooked vitals, but that was the least of his worries as by the time he hit the ground he was dead.

"_petaQ_!" screamed another one of the Klingons, and as one unit the other four Warriors whirled around to face the Commander, eager for vengeance! But T'Pol was faster, she kicked back and rose up on her knees, fanned the pistol to the left, finger churning on the trigger, and managed to nail three of the towering aliens in the chest with death-dealing shots!

But before she could get a bead on the fourth, the last remaining Klingon managed to catch her gun wrist and twisted hard--T'Pol screamed in agony and the gun flew away, the Warrior swung back a fist and slugged her across the jaw, generating a sound like metal striking meat! The wicked blow knocked the Vulcan out cold, the Klingon reached for the dagger on his hip and--and Sam barreled into him like a freight-train and they both staggered past the downed T'Pol, went down in a tangle of limbs!

"You leave her ALONE!" Beckett roared as he straddled the muscled alien and began punching him over-and-over in the face.

"You attacked us--you attacked _her_!" the Leaper's face was a mask of fury, "A wounded and defenseless woman! You claim to have honor, but you have NONE! Bastard!" He laced his fingers together and drove a _brutal_ double-punch down into the being's chest, making him grunt with pain and jerk, and

...and Sam's fists strangely met soft, yet firm, resistance...

He blinked in confusion, "Huh?" then pulled his hands free of...of...

"Oh...um, oops..."

And the Klingon _female_ looked up from the impressive cleavage the human had just yanked his hands out of and snarled ferociously up at him.

"Heh, you're a lady." Sam fought to grin, in desperate hopes she'd forgive his accidental transgression, "Or, at least, close enough for jazz. Sorry...my mistake."

"Yes..._your _mistake..." and she threw up a mailed hand and caught him by the throat, dug in deep. "_Baktag_ human! Koeroth was my mate! You think me LARGE, do you!"

"Nnnn--guck!--nnooo..." he clawed at her fingers uselessly.

She climbed to her feet, hauling Beckett up with her, and impressively raised him into the air, "I am Sotrell, Daughter of Blirna! Your woman has died slaughtering my betrothed! Do you know what that means, Archer?"

"Uhhhh--guh!--nnnnooo?"

And Sotrell flung him down onto the ground, crouched and climbed atop him, straddling him as he had straddled her. At least, _almost_ in the same way. Sam blinked through the pain and looked up to see her leering down at him, "It means you are now MY mate!"

_Wha--ohhhhhh, no!_

"Whoa, lady..." he struggled vainly to get free of her iron-muscled thighs, "hold on and wait one d-damn minute!"

"You will be SILENT!" Sotrell roared, spattering his face with hot spittle, then she grinned, "At least, my new _Par'machi_, don't speak any words. But, you may groan in pleasure. Also, scream my name in agony. Yes, please do."

And seizing Sam by the shoulders she yanked him into a rough embrace, kissing him deeply...

**To be continued...**


	6. Part VI

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part V****I**** - Tied Up with Strings**

_Deep in the barren heart of Stallions Gate..._

"Gooshie! _Gooshie_! Stop her! I mean him! Him! Stop HIM!"

Project Quantum Leap's Head Programmer looked up from the glowing Smarties box of a control panel and regarded Rear Admiral Calavicci in confusion.

"Stop who?"

"Ziggy! Stop Ziggy!"

"Stop Ziggy from doing...what?"

"Anything! EVERYTHING! Well, not everything, I still need him, but shut off all her access to outside feeds."

"Outside feeds?"

"You know, modems, telephone lines, cut the strings on her tin cans, take away her cell phone, unplug everything that's un-pluggable!"

"Admiral?"

"Look, would you just DO it!" Al reached his handlink's mother-console and slapped it's stale Gummy-Bear surface with his cigar hand, "Shut her--him down, if you have to! Oh, jeez," he rubbed at his aching scalp, "Donna's got me all mixed up now..."

"But, Admiral, shut off Ziggy's outside feeds? I don't understand-"

"So? What _else_ is new! Look, you don't have to understand, Gooshie, in fact it's much better if you didn't! Just do what you're told, and do it _now_. And make it fast!"

Gooshie nodded fervently and bent to his task, his skilled hands sliding expertly across the console's pulsing multi-hued surface. Al breathed a sigh of relief and tossing his old stogie in a nearby trash can he dug out a new one, then felt around for his lighter.

"_Admiral?_" the hybrid computer's compu-sphere pulsed along with her syllables, "_Why are you having Gooshie shut down all __of __my outside connections? I need those in order to__ properly__ function._"

Al plunged a hand in his left pants pocket and dug through the handful of change he always carried around, "No you don't, Ziggy. Heh, nice try. You work just fine as a stand-alone."

"_That is true, Admiral, but my primary function is locate Dr. Beckett in time and provide him with historical information so that he can fulfill his current mission, then Leap. And for that, I require net access._"

"Not this time you don't!"

"She doesn't?" Gooshie looked up from the console.

"I told you it's classified, Gooshie."

"Um, no you didn't. You said it was better I didn't know why. That's not the same thing."

"Yes it is! I'm a Rear Admiral and in charge of the Project. If you don't need to know something, then that means it's classified. Automatically! So, just do what I told you to do, okay?"

"I...I can't."

Al looked ready to pop a blood vessel, "What do you MEAN, you can't?!"

Gooshie shrugged beneath the expanse of his wrinkled white lab coat, "I can shut down some of the outside connections from here, but the rest of them half to be detached externally."

"So? Go detach them!"

The Head Programmer's mustache drooped, "What--go outside?"

"Yes."

"But...but it's cold out there!"

"So?" shrugged Al, "A little cold never hurt anybody. I was stationed off the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica for two years as a Lieutenant, and do you think I ever complained?"

"All the time, I'll bet."

"Don't make me slap you, Gooshie!"

"Yeah, but Admiral, it's the desert! And it's winter--heck, in two days it'll be Christmas! Do you know how low the temperature must be out there? Plus, I'll need to climb a ladder."

"So wear a parka and mittens and get somebody to help you. But get...it..._done_!"

Gooshie swallowed hard, then nodded and took off at a run. Al watched him go, swearing under his breath, then turned back to the ceiling mounted sphere, which had remained suspiciously quiet for too long, in the Rear Admiral's opinion.

_It's all we can do to get Roberta the Robot to shut her gear-box at the best of times, so what gives? No way she can know about the Captain, Ziggy doesn't have any feeds into the Waiting Room, so...oh, no..._

And he reached a hand into the pocket of his sport coat and pulled out the jello ice-cubed shape of his handlink.

"Why you sneaky cyborg, you were eavesdropping! Admit it! You were!"

The sphere didn't give off so much as a flicker.

Al waved the handlink menacingly up at her, shaking it so hard it's square keys rattled, "You heard the whole thing, didn't you! You already know!"

"_Know what, Admiral?_" the AI inquired as innocently as she/he could muster.

"What did you do!"

"_Do?_"

"Yeah! Who did you tell? Don't lie to me, Ziggy, I know Sam programmed you with about a _billion_ fail-safes, to account for anything and _everything_ that king-sized noggin of his could come up with, long before he stepped into the Quantum Accelerator and vanished. And even though every time I asked him if it was possible to Leap into the future and Sam told me it _wasn't_, I just _knew_ he had accounted for it. And so did the Government. Who you are directly connected to, for the purpose of sending daily reports."

"_Hourly, actually._"

"Ah-HAH! I _knew_ it! Ziggy, you dirty dog, you TOLD!"

"_I was programmed to do so, Admiral, by the order of Congress, and by the hand of Dr. Beckett himself. And furthermore, I personally believe it was the right thing to do._"

"Personally believe? Bah, what can a bucket of Radio Shack left-overs know about personal beliefs. You only _believe_ what your creator _taugh__t_ you to believe."

"_And how different are YOU in that regard, Admiral?_"

"This isn't the time to start arguing philosophy, Ziggy!"

"_You were the one who brought it up._"

Al furiously gave up trying to find his lighter and stuffed the new cigar back in his pocket. "I know what you're trying to do, you're trying to distract me, but hah-hah, you can't! I'm too smart for you!"

"_You are?_" the computer sounded dubious.

"Yeah! I am! Now tell me, who did you tell about the Captain?"

"_Unfortunately, you are not cleared for that information._"

Al gawked at the computer and dragged at his jaw almost hard enough to dislocate it, "Not cleared? Not cleared?! But I'm a Rear Admiral, for cripe's sake."

"_I know that, Admiral, but nevertheless_-"

"Nevertheless? Nevertheless! With me, Ziggy, there is 'never' any nevertheless!"

"_I find that statement to be anachronistic, Admiral, as well as poorly syntaxed._"

"Okay, that's IT!" and Al looked around for the fire extinguisher to bash in Ziggy's sphere with. There had to be one around here somewhere--there! He turned and-

"_Admiral..._"

Al halted and glared up at the sphere, "What!"

"_You are correct, I did indeed listen in on your conversation with the Captain. But please understand, my programming required__ that__ I do so. The same programming put there by Dr. Beckett._"

The Admiral hesitated, but still fumed, "Why?"

"_Because I detected several anomalies in the man named Jonathan's cellular structure, as well as the quantum energies detected during his arrival in the Waiting Room. And I suspected that...that..._"

"Suspected? Suspected what? Wait, are you telling me you KNEW all the time that he was from the future, instead of the past? You k_new_, and you didn't tell me?"

"_I only suspected that might be his origin. The strange readings I recorded, plus his obvious similarity in appearance to Dr. Beckett, made it a distinct possibility that he might come from a future point in the timeline, instead of the past._"

"But it's not possible for Sam to Leap into somebody in the future."

The computer snickered, "_What? Who told you that?_"

"Sam did!"

Ziggy stopped laughing, "_Oh... Well, Dr. Beckett must not have known at the time. But that's not true at all. And you should know that by now, Admiral._"

Al scowled, "I should?"

"_Yes._"

"Yeah, but Sam can only travel during his own life-time."

"_That is a factor, I will concede, but who is to say what his life-time actually is?_"

"Ohhh! I get it, so you're saying that if he lived to say, a hundred, then he could conceivably travel as far ahead as 2053?" Al gulped, _oh jeez, that brings up a whole mess of problems. I think I need to lie down..._

But instead he looked back to the compu-sphere, "But wait, this guy in the Waiting Room, he acts like he's from a lot further into the future then just a few decades. I get the distinct impression that he comes from a point in time at least a century ahead, or even more. So what you're telling me is that Sam is...is immortal?" _Damn, he gets all the breaks, huh..._

He could almost hear the AI rolling her metaphorical eyes, "_No, Admiral, that is not what I am trying to say. Dr. Beckett is not immortal. But, he has Leaped past his own life-time before._"

Al frowned, "What, you mean when he switched places with his great-grandfather in the Civil War? But...ohhhh, crap..."

"_Oh crap indeed._"

The Admiral turned about, eyes wide and haunted, his face ashen, "So what you're saying is, if Sam can Leap into his great-grandfather in the past, then he can also Leap into his great-grandson in the...in the..."

"_In the future..._" finished Ziggy.

"I...I really _do _need to lie down." moaned Al.

"_Unfortunately, you do not have time to do so._"

"I don't?"

"_No. Because Dr. Beckett needs you._" and with a hiss of hydraulics, the Imaging Chamber door slid up into the ceiling, spilling dazzling ivory light into PQL's Control Room.

Al whirled around in shock, "Wha--you've _found_ him?!"

"_Yes, Admiral._"

"But...how?!"

"_Actually, it was quite simplistic. Once I deduced the Doctor was in the future and not the past, it was simply a matter of performing a reverse meson_-."

"Know what?" Al broke in fast, beyond eager to finally get started, "Never mind, you found him, and--and that's fantastic! Ziggy, if you had lips, I would give you the biggest, sloppiest kiss in all the history of the world!"

"_Then it is a good thing I do not have lips._"

"Heh, sez you, babe, sez you." and with a lecherous grin Al bolted forward, shot up the ramp, and vanished through the glowing white doorway...

**To be continued...**


	7. Part VII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part VI****I**** - Anchors Away**

_Between a rock and a hard place..._

"Take me, human! Yes! YES! By Kahless, savage my body like a true Warrior would!"

"But...but I r-really don't want to!" the unwilling male managed to gasp out.

"But you SHALL!"

And Sotrell, Daughter of Blirna, once again buried her new mate's face in her impressive sea of cleavage! Both of them moaned, but for entirely different reasons. Well, mostly...

While over the course of the nearly five years of constant Leaping, Dr. Sam Beckett had been forced on several occasions to come up with a variety of flimsy excuses why _not_ to engage in physical relations with a person who had perceived him to be their romantic partner, here on the alien world of Talitha III was the first time it hadn't been an actual _person_ he wanted to refuse.

_Well, that's not exactly true,_ he corrected as Sotrell yanked his head up from her chest, giving him another precious moment to breath, _there was Corey, and she wasn't a person, she was chimp. Not that this woman here isn't a person, she's just not a human. And...and is this right? I mean, I've fought against racism before, and the right for people of different races to have a romantic relationship, because people should all be treated equal, but what if THIS is what I'm here to do? These Klingons are obviously at war with humans, so what if the reason I've Leaped in here is to make peace with them? Damn! What if it IS?_

"Nahhh..."

"What was that, my husband?" Sotrell pulled him free yet again and began tearing at what remained of his uniform, "Are you experiencing _hoQuarn_? Because, I am as well!"

"Uh...I don't know. Wh-What exactly is _hoQuarn_?" _Hey, I think I pronounced that right! Okay, wait, learning new words in an alien language: not a priority here!_

"You do not know _hoQuarn_?" grinned the scraggly-toothed female, and she reached behind her head and pulling a lethal-looking clip free she unleashed a mass of curly brown hair that rivaled her breasts in it's size and impressiveness. "Allow me to demonstrate." and she ripped Sam's tunic open and began chewing on his chest. Literally.

"Wha-OW! Hey! Stop that! I said-hehehhe, guhh! I mean, STOP that!" and with an extreme feat of strength Sam managed to pry her mouth from his tender flesh. "Are you-are you crazy?" he pointed across the smoking battlefield at the scattered bodies of her kinsman, "Your husband-he's dead! He just died barely a _minute_ ago!"

"I know! Isn't it glorious! Now, let us honor your Vulcan mate's incredible triumph over Koeroth by you impregnating me!"

"What? No!"

"No? NO? What, are you not _capable _of the act, Archer? Is that why you had your mate fight my husband _for _you?"

"I did _not_ have my mate fight Koeroth for me! And she _isn't_ my mate, T'Pol is my...uh...First Officer, that's it! Yes, she's my First Officer, one of my crewmen, and-and she is NOT my mate! And neither are YOU! So get OFF of me!"

But Sotrell wasn't ready to release him yet, "Mate or First Officer, Captain, it makes no difference, she was bound to you, one way or another, and as Koeroth's widow if I cannot be bound to his killer, then her immediate superior must stand in as my new mate. And I cannot marry your First Officer, for obvious reasons-"

"Because T'Pol is...is a female?" ventured Sam. _Can there be gay Klingons?_

"No! Because your T'Pol is DEAD!"

"She is not! At least, I don't think she is." he tried to look over Sotrell's shoulder but it was too high, so he looked back at her, eyes desperate, "Look, you have to let me check on her. If she isn't dead she still might be dying, and-"

"NO! The Ritual of _Ha'GIboH_ has been initiated! It cannot and will not be interrupted! Not anymore! TAKE me, human! Take me NOW!"

"No!" Sam gripped the Klingon's incredibly-toned shoulders and tried to push her back.

"Yes! You will mate with me, Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise_, or-"

"-or WHAT?" he demanded, "If I'm your husband, don't I have the right to-to...to refuse?"

Sotrell hesitated for a moment, "Um...well, yes. Yes, of course. But..."

"But?"

And she grinned widely, "But...I don't want you to!" and she slugged him across the jaw, knocking him over onto his back, then-then a pair of blue energy beams flashed through the air and nailed her in either side, she howled, then collapsed onto him. Their foreheads, his tender and hers jagged, met with a _clunk_, and Dr. Beckett saw stars.

Everything got slow and indistinct for a time, and when Sam finally started to refocus, his hazy vision made out a short, dark-haired figure of a man standing over him, regarding the half-naked alien woman with wide-eyes, while he tapped absently on a handlink.

_Thank god! At last__!_

"A-Al? Al! Oh, it's great to see you! Y-You have no idea what I've b-been through!" he pushed the heavy woman off of him with a grunt and climbed unsteadily to his feet. "Al! We're-I'm-this is an_ alien_ planet!"

"It is?" the man with the hand device looked back-and-forth.

"Yes! And that woman that just tried to mate-to have sex with me-"

"Sex?"

"Yes! But that's not the point! The point is, she's not human! She's, get this, she's an _alien_ too! She's called a Klingon, can you believe that? Wow, and, wait, heh...you-you're not Al, are you..."

His shaky vision from the second head blow of the day had finally cleared and to his dismay he discovered that the man standing beside him, while very similar in height and hair color to the PQL Observer, was not in fact the still absent Al Calavicci. No, he was another one of his Officers, according to his purple jumpsuit. _ Is everything in this strange new world colored purple?_

"Um...you're not...your name...it's not Al..." Sam rubbed at his pounding skull. _Should have realized that the moment he spoke, because last time I checked Al didn't have an English accent..._

"No, sir, it's not. My name is Malcolm Reed, but don't you remember?" asked the man, "Captain, are you feeling alright?"

"Nope. Not very..."

The Officer raised his hand device again and panned it back-and-forth in front of Sam's face, frowned, "I'm not detecting any lesions or abrasions. But that doesn't rule out a concussion."

"Oh. That's good. But, heh, I was just kidding before. Except for a slight headache, I, um, feel perfectly fine. It's T'Pol you should be seeing to-" his eyes flew wide and he whirled in the Vulcan's direction, "T'Pol! Is she-"

"She's fine, sir." assured Reed and as Sam watched, a trio of _Enterprise_ crewmen loaded the Commander onto a stretcher. "She has a broken arm and jaw, as well as a slight concussion, but the Nurse assures me she should be fine to travel back to the ship."

"Concussions are on the menu for everybody today it seem..." muttered Sam, then he looked back to Reed, eyes wide again, "Ship? As in...starship? Your ship, it's _here_? On the planet?" _ Oh, wow, I have GOT to see it before I Leap! I just HAVE to!_

Reed frowned in confusion, "On the planet? Our shuttlepod is nearby, yes, but _Enterprise _is in orbit. She can't land, sir." he peered into Sam's eyes, "You _do _know that, don't you, Captain?"

"Yes. Yes, of course I do. I, uh, meant the shuttlepod, not your starship-_my _starship. Not my ship. The shuttlepod. But not, um, my starship. Heh...I'm the Captain. Right, I'm the Captain around here, am I not?"

"Of course, sir. Always."

Sam squared his shoulders, "Well then, as the Captain, I order you to take me back to the shuttlepod and then to return me to my ship. Yes, right away. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"And give me your scanning device."

"Excuse me?"

Sam plucked the hand scanner from Reed's grip, then gestured with it for him to lead the way. Malcolm shrugged, then did as he was told. Sam followed after him, examining the hand-held device with great interest. _Amazing, I've never seen anything like this_, and he began accessing it's functions, quickly finding a Basic Command menu. Five minutes later they exited the forest into a second clearing and he had a firm grasp of the device's usage, plus he'd used it to tutor him on a variety of other 22nd Century devices. Not to mention, he now knew when he was.

_March 12th, 2155! Incredible! I knew this was the future, but not that it was more then two CENTURIES after I was born. So, either I'm going to live to be more then two hundred, or...or..._

He stopped dead as he caught sight of the perfectly intact shuttlepod. But it wasn't the elegant lines of the grey craft that caught his eye, it was the face looking back at him from the reflection of it's canopy. And the face-it was HIS!

"My god..."

"Sir?" Reed halted and looked back, saw him peering into the glass, "Is there something wrong with the shuttlepod? Is the canopy cracked?"

"What? No... It's just...I'm old."

"Sir?"

"Older. I mean, I'm older." _At least five years, maybe ten. Or, I mean, Archer is older then me. But he looks exactly like me, so...Jonathan Archer, he must be my descendant! Holy...so he's my...my what? Wait...but, I don't have any kids, do I? I...I don't think I do..._

Sam licked his lips and did his damndest to remember, and for a split-second the face of a dark-haired little girl with big cheeks flashed through his mind, but then she was gone as quickly as she had appeared.

_Sammy-Jo?_ his desperate mind managed to unleash from it's swiss-cheesed fragments, _Fuller? Yes! Samantha...Josephine...Fuller! Oh my god... A daughter..._

"I have a daughter..." Sam gasped under his breath, "...and Jonathan Archer, he must be...be my great-grandson..."

_Oh, boy..._

**To be continued...**


	8. Part VIII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part VI****I****I - Still to be Reckoned**

_March, 2155..._

"She's...she's...so _beautiful_..."

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III cast his superior the fourth sidelong glance in as many minutes. The first two looks had been when the shuttlepod had lifted off and achieved orbit, and the latest pair had been once _Enterprise_ had come into sight in the far distance.

"You're in a good mood, sir."

"Hmmm?" Sam Beckett leaned even closer to the canopy and appeared to be studying the expanding starship's starboard nacelle.

Trip adjusted their heading a hair then looked back, "Well, yer actin like a pig in hog's heaven, Cap'n, if you don't mind me sayin."

"Love that accent." Sam remarked absently as his wide eyes ghosted across _Enterprise_'s lines.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"What? Oh... Um, nothing. Hey, how fast does she go?"

Tucker frowned, "What, how fast are we going? Oh, about half-Impulse. Why, you want me to accelerate? 'Cause we'll be home in jus' under three minutes, Cap'n. No worries, T'pol will be with Phlox faster then you can say Jack Robinson."

"Jack Robinson?"

"Well, maybe not _that _fast, sir, but nearly. Anyway," and he spared a glance back over his shoulder at their prostrate First Officer, "the Nurse said she'll be fine, just a broken jaw and arm, bit of head trauma."

_Which is __a __damn lucky break for HER,_ Trip shot their unconscious 'guest' a wicked glare, then looked back forward.

His jaw worked for a second, then he decided to bring it up. "Sir?"

"Yeah, uh-huh?" the Captain was playing with the scanner feeds, zooming in-and-out on _Enterprise_'s saucer.

"Can I ask...why are we bring'n that...that..._her_ back with us?"

"Her? Oh, you mean the Klingon? Um, well, so we can, uh, return her to her people."

"What! You mean, we're going into Klingon space?"

"Well...maybe not..." the man he saw as Archer left the console alone and pulled out Reed's hand scanner again, began sifting through it's index.

"_Maybe_ not? No offense, Cap'n, but you can't be serious. Um...are you?"

"So..." Sam Beckett inquired carefully, "...you think that would be too much of...of a risk? I mean, ahem, in your expert opinion as ship's..." he took a stab in the dark, "...Chief Engineer?"

According to the scanner's limited database, Tucker's rank bars set him as a Commander, and the position of CE seemed to fit that level of authority. _It certainly would if I had designed a vessel as incredible as this NX-Class starship,_ Sam decided firmly.

Tucker shrugged, "Don't see what me bein Chief Engineer has got to with it, jus' seems ta be common sense. The Klingons, they ain't too fond of us. You especially, sir. Don't forget _Rura Penthe_."

"Um...of course, how could I ever forget him?"

_Odd sort of name_, frowned Sam, _even for one of these Klingons. Sounds like something out of Jules Verne..._

The Chief blinked, he must have misunderstood what the Captain had just said. _He must have been talking about Duras. Sure, who COULD ever forget that chicken-fried psycho..._

Archer shut off the scanner he'd taken from Lt. Reed and closed it back up, "But getting back to the Klingons, don't you think they might possibly see our returning one of their honored Warriors as a kind of, I dunno, peace offering?"

"Um...isn't this Sotrell a renegade? She helped steal that Raptor you and T'Pol blew up, which they were using to raid colonies, both ours and the Klingons. You take her back to them, sir, an' they're liable to execute her."

"Oh..." Sam scowled. _Okay, so much for the 'unite Earth and the Klingon__s__' theory of why I've Leaped in here. Dammit, I need some expert advice, I'm flying blind! Where the HELL is_-

Suddenly, directly ahead of the shuttlepod, a glowing white rectangle slid into being and Al Calavicci stepped out into...nothing!

Dr. Beckett's eyes went wide as Al let-loose with a wordless scream and threw up hands to protect his face, then the pod shot through him! For a split-second his holographic form blurred through the cockpit then was gone! Sam did a double-take, then uselessly looked back over his shoulder.

"Oh, jeez!"

Malcolm looked up in alarm from assisting the Nurse, "Sir? What is it?"

"D-Did we hit something?" demanded Tucker, automatically swerving them fast to port, then back to starboard, "Oh ma gosh, I didn't see a blessed _thing_ on the navi-scanners!"

Sam swallowed hard and forced his face forward, took a very deep breath, "I...I thought I saw something, but-but I was wrong. Everything's fine now. I swear!" _Ohhhh no, it's NOT! Holy cow, Al!_

Trip breathed a sigh of relief, "Whew! Had me worried there for a second, sir! Nearly had me a calf'n-a-half!"

"You and me both, pardner..." muttered Sam under his breath, then shut his eyes and didn't open them until the pod finally landed in _Enterprise_'s Bay...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Sam was standing at the bottom of the catwalk stairs, watching Tucker and T'Pol vanish into the upper-level corridor, when his white-faced Observer finally popped back into existence. Sam grinned widely, "Thank god! I thought we'd left you permanently behind!"

"Sir?" asked Reed as he exited the shuttlepod, followed by a pair of his guards bearing the solid mass of the unconscious Klingon female, "Left me behind? Did you not see me aboard the pod?"

"Wha-of course I did. Um...just checking to see if you were paying attention."

"To what exactly, sir?" Malcolm was very confused.

"Oh...nevermind. Just escort Sotrell to the...the..." he activated the hand scanner and glanced down at it's screen for a moment, "...the Brig."

"Of course, Captain." Reed eyed his scanning device for a moment and considered asking for it back, then thought better of it. He could always requisition another, and besides the Captain appeared to have become quite attached to it.

_What the devil did this bloody Klingon Amazon actually DO to him, before we managed to arrive?_ the Security Officer wondered with a grimace, then helped the two guards hustle Sotrell up the narrow stairs.

Back down below, Sam looked back-and-forth, then spied an open doorway and cocked his head in the portal's direction for Al to follow him. He entered what appeared to be somesort of storage or cargo room and nodded at the surprised looking Ensign doing inventory.

"Um, I need to use this room for a few minutes."

"Sir?"

"Can you please leave?" then he remembered his position and squared his shoulders, "_Now_, crewman. Go find something else to do." he ordered harshly, regretting every word, but it wasn't like he really had a choice. And the young woman expected it, anyway, chain-of-command and all that stuff.

"Aye, sir!" the Ensign dashed out of the room, sealing the door behind her. A moment later Al staggered through the closed portal like a ghost and leaned up against the bulkhead, breathing hard. Or at least, he was leaning up against the Imaging Chamber's wall, which coincidently began half an inch from the Cargo Bay's own.

"Are you okay?" demanded Sam, his eyes wide with concern.

"Oh, Sam... That...that was...was _awful_! That crazy bullet-shaped thing went through me faster then day-old Thai food! Yeesh, I thought that nitro-charged space-buggy was gonna kill me!"

Sam reached out to grip his Observer's shoulder, then remembered he couldn't, and had to settle for offering up a comforting smile, "Hey, things run through you all the time in the Imaging Chamber, Al. Cars, trucks, trains, even a boat once. It's not real to you, remember?"

The Admiral rubbed at his gleaming forehead, "I know, I know, you don't have to remind me. But appearing in the vacuum of space and then having a flying saucer try and bisect your colon, real or not, heh, you'd wanna toss your cookies too!" he took a deep breath and straightened up, adjusted his emerald silk tie, "Okay, I'm fine now, all better."

"Great to hear it, because I really need you with me, Al. You have NO idea what I've been going through."

"What _you've_ been going through? What about me? You think this whole 2155 thing is a walk-in-the-park for us?"

"What? You know what year it is? But-how is that even possible? Ziggy is programmed for the past only. And I can't possibly imagine there would be any way to load her memory banks with information on the future."

"What? Oh. No, Ziggy didn't tell me that. Hell, she's as blotto about this whole mess as you and me, Sam. Nope, I got that out of the guy you Leaped in to, who, by the way, I think is, and you're gonna love this, we think he might be your-"

"-grandson." Sam provided, "Well, great-grandson, actually, if I'm doing my generational math right."

Al scowled, "How'd you figure that out?" Sam pointed to his face and the Admiral nodded, "Oh right, I forgot."

"Does Ziggy have any theory as to how this is even possible?" asked Sam, "I mean, wow, this is unprecedented! I've Leaped out of my own personal lifetime and into that of my distant descendant! I mean, who could have even forseen something even _close_ to this ever happening?"

The Rear Admiral seemed to fidget for a second and Sam's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Al...?"

"What?" Calavicci looked back-and-forth as if in search of a convenient bolt-hole.

"Al!"

His Observer sighed and gave-in, "Okay, but I'm only telling you this because you seem to have forgotten about it, which means after this Leap you'll probably forget all about it _again_, but..."

"But?"

"But...you've Leaped out of your own timeline before. Sort of recently, actually."

"I did?" Sam was flabbergasted, "Into who?"

"Your great-grandfather, during the Civil War."

"Wha-I traveled back to the 19th Century? Holy..."

_Dammit! Why can't I remember that? I mean, swiss-cheesed or not, how is it possible that such an impacting event in my life could be so easily erased from my mind? Damn, what ELSE might I be forgetting, if I could forget something as incredible as swapping places with my own great-grandfather? I mean-wait, I forgot about Sammy-Jo. Okay, I take it all back about the Civil War Leap, and speaking of her..._

"Al..." he asked his closest friend, "Do...do I have a daughter?"

The Admiral froze for a second, then he assumed a nonchalant air.

"Um...nope. Of course not. Hah, what, you think I would neglect to tell you something as important as that? What kind of monster do you, um, think I am? Heh..." _Of all the stupid times for Sam to remember THAT little piece of personal info, why the HELL does it have to be now? I mean, come on!_

Sam fixed him with a critical stare, "Al... Are you lying to me for my own protection?"

"What? Never!"

"But I remember her, Al. She was...she was conceived during a Leap, wasn't she? Yes! She was! And...and she's all grown up now and...and..._working_ at the Project! Al! You ARE lying to me!"

Calavicci sighed and mopped his forehead, wishing to God he hadn't misplaced his lighter because if he ever needed a good smoke, _this_ was the time. "Look, Sam, I had no choice, she made me promise not to."

"Who, Sammy-Jo?"

"No, not Sammy-Jo. Hah! She doesn't even know that you're her father."

"She doesn't?" Sam's face fell and Al shook his head wistfully, because this was exactly why he didn't want him to know about Samantha Fuller. Why hurt him like this? It was like telling a man with Alzheimer's that his wife of fifty years was dead. Every time it was like stabbing him in the heart.

Sam recovered fast though, just licked his lips and pressed onwards, "But wait, if Sammy-Jo isn't the one who told you not to tell me about her, then who?"

Al chewed his lip for a second, then lied yet again, "Dr. Beeks. You remember her?" Sam nodded, "Right. Look, she makes all the psychoanalytical whatchamacallit calls, and I don't have the power to overrule her, even if I wanted to. And when it comes to Sammy-Jo, I just didn't think you needed to go through that, pal."

"Yeah...I get that..." Sam turned away and studied the grey bulkheads absently.

"If it's any consolation, Sam, she's a great kid. Got your smarts and her mom's good looks. And she's happy."

Sam looked back, a smile pricking at his lips, "She is? Really?"

"Yep. Got a boyfriend and everything. A Lieutenant in the Marines."

Sam scowled darkly, "Boyfriend? How old is she?"

Al chuckled, "She's thirty-two, Sam. Don't forget, you had her while Leaping. But don't worry, I've met the guy, and trust me, he's a real stand-up guy. In fact, I served with his old man once back in 'Nam, and it just isn't possible for any kid of Theo Archer's to be anything less then honorable, so don't worry yourself-what?"

Dr. Beckett had suddenly gone very pale.

"What... What did you just say his...his_ name_ was?"

"Who, the boyfriend? Lieutenant Stephen Archer. Why?" and then Al's eyes saucered as well, "Nooo! No WAY! You _aren't_!"

"I am..."

"Jonathan! Jonathan's last name is-"

"-Archer. Captain Jonathan Archer, commander of the starship _Enterprise_."

The two of them, Leaper and Observer, just stood there for more then a minute amongst the stacked boxes and drums, digesting it all. Sam was the one who spoke at last, and very quietly.

"Just...just her boyfriend?"

"Not for long!" snarled Al, "That _dog_! I'm gonna personally see to it that he puts a diamond ring on Sammy-Jo's finger, if it's the last thing I EVER d-" the Cargo Bay door slid back and a tall, stocky man in a smock stepped inside, a grave look upon his oddly-craggy face.

"There you are, Captain." he declared sternly, "I have been looking all over for you."

"Um, I'm kind of busy at the moment." Sam said stiffly, "Can we talk later?"

"No. We cannot."

"Look, crewman, leave, and leave now. Are you forgetting who I am?"

"Never, Captain. But _you_ seem to be forgetting who I am. And I can't believe you would have the audacity to think you could just skip coming to Sickbay after what you and Commander T'Pol went through down on that planet. I mean, have you even been through Decontamination yet?"

"Sam," warned Al, "be very careful with this guy, I think he's the local Doctor, which means he probably has the power to overrule you, just like Beeks does with me, and-wait! What the heck is wrong with his face! Omigod, he's a damn ALIEN!"

Phlox turned and glared at the hologram, "And what exactly do you think you are to _me_, sir? Damn alien? Really, in this day and age there is no room in society for such a crude remark."

And the jaws of the two men dropped...

**To be continued...**


	9. Part IX

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part I****X**** - A Hundred Years Away**

_December, 1999..._

Shivering because of the cold as well as the height, Gooshie gripped the facility's utility ladder with both his knees and his left hand, while his right fumbled with the last of the line feeds. It would have been a difficult enough job with bare fingers, but his digits were currently gloved and rapidly numbing, turning the bizarre assignment into a frozen hell.

_Come on...come on, why won't you...turn off! Darnit..._

In the near distance, a mountain framed the mesa Project Quantum Leap was built into the side of, and it's jagged peaks were crawling with barely-subdued blue lightning, a necessary venting process of PQL's constantly-running Quantum Accelerator. On all sides the night-cast desert spread in every direction, it's rising pinnacles casting long shadows under the full moon.

Gooshie coughed and for a moment swayed on the top of the ladder.

_I don't know what's jumped up the Admiral's...the Admiral's... I don't know what's bothering Al, but it had better be darned important_, the computer expert grimaced as he fumbled inside the open grating, _because I've already shocked myself twice, and I'm pretty sure a third zap will send me plunging down three stories to a sudden and very painful death..._

"Sir?" the thick accent of his young protégé rose up from the base of the ladder, "Are ya almost finished up there?"

_God, I hope so..._

"Nearly." he swallowed in the chill breeze, "P-Please just hold the ladder still."

"Of course, sir. It's just-"

"I know, I know." he grumbled as his frosty breath continued the process of freezing his mustache to his nostril hairs, "This isn't the kind of thing you signed on for. But you were the only one I could find not 'living it up' down there in the Cafeteria."

Gooshie paused for a moment. Why exactly was that? When he had left, everybody had just been milling about, mostly bored. But when he came back nearly the entire staff had been out on the make-shift dance floor, groovin to Lou Bega. Was it possibly his presence that had been bringing the party down? Or the Rear Admiral's?

_Or maybe somebody spiked the punch while I was up in the Control Room, because it couldn't have been me ruining it for everybody. And I hate to think Admiral Calavicci's poor mood had been spreading. Because nobody should be sad at Christmas ti_-

"Sir?" the Project's junior Programmer tone seemed adamant now.

Gooshie finally managed to realign the last circuit board, breathed a sigh of relief, "What is it?" he demanded absently down the icing rungs of the ladder.

"Um...you had better come down here."

"Just one...more...second......there!" and with a crackle the last feed went dark and he grinned widely, then thumbed the panel's controls. It slid shut and vanished into the ivory sandstone of the complex wall. With a rare display of boldness, Gooshie loosened his hold on the ladder and slid all the way back down to the bottom, stopping at the last moment on the bottom rung. Dramatically he hopped off and turned around, forcing a mock-scowl onto his face. "Okay, Sammy-Jo, what exactly is...the problem..." he trailed off and his eyes went wide.

"_This_ is." the Louisiana-born woman replied.

"...Oh." said Gooshie, "I see."

And the two of them shaded their eyes from the bright headlights of a closing Military-grade Humvee...

*** * * * ***

_March, 2155..._

Sam Beckett, in the aura-supported guise of his distant descendant Captain Jonathan Archer, stood in the middle of the _Enterprise_ Cargo Bay, face-to-face with _another_ non-human being, while the 'alien' in question shockingly was glaring down a man who wasn't actually there.

A man named Al Calavicci.

"Well?" demanded the ship's Doctor of the two-star Naval Officer, "Are you going to apologize? I'm waiting."

"Saaaaam...." Al wailed wide-eyed.

"Not now."

"But--But he can _see_ me! And--And he's a...a freaking a-"

"Not _now_." the Leaper snapped again, then folded arms across his chest and shot the hologram a look, "Apologize to Phlox."

"Huh? To who?"

Sam had obtained the name from Lt. Reed's hand scanner, but he had no idea that it had belonged to somebody of another species. Though considering his encounter with T'Pol maybe he should have...

"This is Dr. Phlox, the ship's resident physician. And as anybody can see, yes, he isn't human, but actually is a...a..."

"Denobulan." provided the Doctor, giving Sam an odd look, "But please, Captain, I don't need you to fight my battles. I am perfectly capable of dealing with a bit of specism. I did used to reside on Earth, remember."

"Heh, right, of course. My mistake. But seriously, Al, apologize to the, uh, man."

"I'm sorry." said the hologram, "Please forgive me. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Huh, no need to overdue it." then something occurred to the MD, "Wait, why exactly did you refer to the Captain here as 'Saaaaam'?" he looked back to Beckett, "A human phrase for anxiety, is it?"

"Yes. That's exactly what it was. Al here, he's got a bad case of nerves since we, um, rescued him from the Klingons."

"Oh dear, really?" Phlox looked the Admiral up-and-down, "And were they the ones who forced you to wear such garish clothing? Is it a form of psychological torture?"

Al instantly lost his trepidation at talking to his first alien lifeform and glared the Doctor down, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Well...everything?" ventured the Denobulan.

"This from a guy with eye-sockets like a cobra."

"Excuse me?!"

"Doctor!" broke in Sam quickly, "I'm sorry I didn't immediately report to Sickbay, but I will go straight there, just as soon as I finish debriefing our new passenger. Okay?"

"Fine. But get scanned in Decontamination first, just to be on the safe-side. Wouldn't want to spread anything around the ship, now would we? Nope, didn't think so."

"Sure, no problem." Sam replied, "Oh, and what's T'Pol's condition?"

Al's handlink squealed again and he turned away as Phlox informed Beckett that the Vulcan Commander was currently in a medically-induced coma but was going to be fine.

"_Al? Al?_" said a voice only the Rear Admiral could hear, and he moved away from Sam and Phlox, to the middle of the storage bay.

"Yeah, Tina?" he said under his breath, "What is it? I'm, uh, kinda busy."

"_Al, honey? Why are you whispering? Aren't you in the Imaging Chamber?_"

"Shhh! Please! Not now. I'll be out as soon as I can!"

Back at the door, Phlox narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to Sam, "This former prisoner of the Klingons, is he suffering from mental problems of some kind? Perhaps due to torture?"

"No. Not that I've, uh, observed."

"But, Captain, he appears to be talking to himself."

"He is? Oh, don't worry about that." Sam said quickly, "I knew him before he was captured, and he always does that. It's sort of a...of a quirk. Heh, no worries, I've been known to do it on occasion myself." _Okay, more then just occasionally..._

"Indeed. I shall take note of that."

"-_but Al, you really should come out here!_" Tina was saying over the IC intercom, "_Gooshie just called down to say there are three people up at the entrance to the complex who want in. They say they're from the Pentagon, and ordered him and Sammy-Jo back down to the party. They want to talk to you, and you alone._"

Al scowled, _dammit, Ziggy, you certainly work fast. Boy, Gooshie's gonna be ticked when I tell him he's going to have to go back out there and reactivate the exterior feeds again.__.._

"That's okay!" he told Tina, "These guys, they're expected. Let them in. I'll be out ASAP. Now, go away!" and he punched his handlink, eliciting a squeal.

"What was that?" inquired Phlox sharply.

"What was what?" asked Sam innocently.

"That noise." the Chief Medical Officer looked back-and-forth, "Is there a wounded animal in here?"

"Um...no?"

Al turned around, grinned, "Sorry, I was, um, just talking to myself."

"So the Captain was telling me." Phlox said gravely, "Sir, have you ever considered psychological counseling?"

"Only every day of the week that ends in a 'Y', heh."

"Every day of the week that...oh, haha, a joke. Yes, very funny." and Phlox grinned very wide. _Much_ too wide for a human.

"Saaaaam!"

The 20th Century Doctor hastily hustled the 22nd one out the door, "Please, Phlox, I really need to talk to this man alone, it's a matter of Fleetstar security! You understand."

"Of course, of course, but...wait, _what_ did you say?" but the door slid shut and Sam punched what he prayed was the locking control. It must have been, because Phlox didn't try to get back in. He whirled back to face his Observer, "Al! This situation is going from bad to worse by the second! What am I going to do?! I don't need to ask you to know Ziggy has got zero info on what I'm supposed to do to Leap out of here, right?"

"Right..." Al nodded grimly, "Even a parallel hybrid computer can't predict the future."

"_I find that highly insulting, Admiral._" broke in the AI.

"Not now, Ziggy!"

"What did she say?" demanded Sam.

"Nothing useful, as per usual."

"_Another pot-shot at me. Seriously, Admiral, I do not deserve such animosity. I am only trying to help._"

"Fine then! What is Sam here to do?"

"_I have no idea._"

"Then WHY did you suggest you could predict the future?" Al shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"_Because in certain instances I have been able to, but_-"

"But? Oh, this should be good."

"-_but Dr. Beckett is too far ahead for me to postulate a proper theory without any imput from his current scenario._"

"Huh? Input from his current scenario? What does that mean?"

"Oh?" broke-in Sam, "She needs data from where I am?" and he pulled out the hand scanner, "No problem. Now that I'm back on the ship this thing has reconnected itself with _Enterprise_'s database. Can Ziggy tie-into it through your handlink?"

"_It shouldn't be a problem._" said the hybrid, "_One moment please..._"

Al nodded, "Ziggy says it should be a cinch for her." then his eyes flew wide, "Wait! NO! Ziggy! Do NOT connect with that device!"

"Why?" asked Sam.

"For about a trillion reasons, most importantly because it could alter the future!"

Sam blinked, his eyes went wide, "Right! Good point!" and he looked down at the scanner, but it's screen was flashing on-and-off rapidly now, and when it was on information was streaming across it's screen at break-neck speed! He looked to Al's handlink and it was pulsing like a Christmas tree on heroin!

"Ziggy!" he shouted, "Stop the upload!"

"Ziggy!" Al joined in and he thumped the handlink hard, punched it, "Do as he says! Do it! Do it or-" the scanner winked off and the handlink's lights returned to their normal rate of flux.

"A_ll done._" the computer said, sounding very satisfied with itself, "_Oh, sorry Admiral, did you ask me a question while I was doing that? I sort of zoned-out for a moment. The _Enterprise_ Main Computer is very advanced. Not as advanced as myself of course, but_-"

"Ziggy! I told you _not_ to connect to Sam's device!"

"_You did not, Admiral. And I distinctly recall Dr. Beckett asking me if I could. And--wait, another moment please. I think I have discovered something useful..._"

"Ziggy!" Al shook the handlink with vigor, but only got random squeaks and bleeps, "Dammit, Ziggy!"

"She already performed the upload?" Sam looked very worried, "Damn, I hope that doesn't have any repercussions..."

*** * * * ***

The doors to Lt. Reed's quarters shot open and the Armory Officer looked up from doing his forty-seventh one-handed push-up to see a pair of his stone-faced men leveling phase pistols down at him.

"Is...Is there a problem?" his eyes narrowed.

"The Computer alerted us that you just illegally-downloaded it's entire database into your hand scanner, sir."

"What, everything?"

"Everything!"

"Crewman, do I _look_ like I was just hacking my own vessel?"

"Well, no, but-"

Then Malcolm's eyes flew wide, "Wait! Did you say _my_ hand scanner?"

And the two men nodded.

Reed jumped to his feet and snatched the pistol out of the hands of the one on the right, then shouldering his way past them he set off at a run down the corridor!

"Sir! Wait! You're--You're under arrest!"

"The _hell_ I am! No, the one you want is the Captain!" and Malcolm vanished around the turn.

The two guards looked at each other in surprise, then took off after him...

**To be continued...**


	10. Part X

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part X - Comes Up a Seven**

_2155..._

While every member of _Enterprise__'_s Security came to life and began searching the starship top-to-bottom for their Captain, down in a cargo area off of the Shuttle Bay, the man in question (sort of, but not actually) was staring with growing anxiety at the holographic recreation of his best friend who wasn't actually there.

A hologram who's face was rapidly going through every shade of red and purple, like an indecisive house-painter. And the cause of both their worried fervor appeared to be the tecnhicolor-cubed surface of the Rear Admiral's handlink, or rather, the parallel hybrid computer back in the year 1999 that it was directly connected into.

Who was refusing to answer them. No matter _how_ hard Al Calavicci shook the handlink.

_Bleep-bloop-squeal!_ "Come on, come on!" Thump! _Squawk-bebop-twang!_ "Ziggy, where in blazes are you? This is REALLY not the time!"

"Al!" warned Sam, "You're going to break that thing one of these times, be careful."

"Oh, I've already broken like twenty handlinks, but no worries, I've got a whole box of them back in my quarters."

Sam frowned, "You do? I guess that makes sense. Hey, how much do they cost, by the way? I've always wondered."

The Admiral slapped the side of the blinking device again, "Six hundred thousand US dollars, give or take ten bucks."

"Wha-six _hundred thousand_?"

Al punched the RESET key, eliciting a sound like a giraffe's death rattle in response, "Yep, 600K."

"What, each?"

"Yeah. Each." _Fibble-foop!_ "Ziggy, you bastard child of a Nintendo and a toaster oven, come ON!"

"_I resent that affront to my lineage, Admiral._" the computer suddenly replied.

"Is Ziggy talking?" demanded Sam eagerly, "Is she back?"

"Um...yeah..." Al licked his lips.

"What's she saying?"

"That I just insulted her parentage. Which I guess would mean you, Sam."

Beckett frowned, "Look, I don't want to know about the insults you two trade, we don't have time for this! Has Ziggy learned anything important from the _Enterprise_ Main Computer?"

"Sam!" raged Al, "I really don't think we should be using future information to help us here! What if it causes me to make some kind of change back here in 1999 and-and-and I dunno, but what if it causes one of those time pair-of-socks thingies, or something else equally _bad_?"

The Leaper from Indiana blinked, "Pair of socks? Ohh, paradox. What if it causes a time paradox?"

"Yeah! Like in _Back to the Future_!"

"And that is..."

"A movie, Sam!" the Admiral waved his arms madly, "A movie about time-travel, where everything went horribly _kaka_ thanks to some poor sucker accidently getting knowledge of his future that lead to him making terrible mistakes that altered history to the point of nuclear war!"

"_Actually, Admiral, in the film _Back to the Future_, Marty McFly's alterations were of much more localized nature, restricted to mostly his home town of_-"

"Ziggy!"

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Shut-it!"

"Y_es, Admiral._"

Al looked back to Sam, "Seriously, doesn't all this strike you as dangerous?"

Dr. Beckett shrugged, "Everything I do as a time-traveler has the potential to alter history, Al, both past and future. Over time and with experience I've just learned that it's best to trust that wherever I've been Lept into, the changes are necessary, and that the concept of a paradox are usually just one person's narow point of view."

"Wait, are you calling me paranoid, Sam?"

"You? Paranoid? Gee, perish the thought." Beckett replied dead-pan.

Al stared at him narrowly for a long moment until Sam finally cracked a smile. Ziggy broke the silence first, though.

"_Admiral?_" spoke up the AI.

"Not now, Ziggy-"

"_But Admiral, there is information you need to be aware of._"

"What, that you have a crush on Doc Brown?"

"_While I do find the character portrayed by Christopher Llyod to be extremely attractive in an intellectual capacity__, __the actual data that I am attempting to impart to you is-_"

_"_Just get to it, Ziggy!" growled Al.

_"Right, yes, anyway, that is what I was trying to do. Ahem, Admiral,__ I believe I can predict to a ninety-six point four-three percentile why Dr. Beckett has Leaped into Captain Jonathan Archer in the year 2155._"

Al did a double-take and Sam leaned forward eagerly.

"She knows something?" he grinned in excitement, "Ziggy has a theory? What is it?"

The Admiral shook the handlink, "Well, you heard the man, spit it out before I get Gooshie to defrag your hard drive with a mallet!"

"_And I shall, but I believe you and Dr. Beckett need to vacate your current location first._"

"Huh? Why?"

And she told him.

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Outside the storage room..._

Phase pistol at the ready, Lieutenant Reed and six of his guards pounded down the catwalk steps into the Shuttle Bay. Malcolm pivoted quickly to the right and his eyes locked onto the annoyed-looking ship's physician, currently glaring at the sealed door to the off-Bay storage room.

"Phlox! Is the Captain in there?"

"Yes. And he is acting very odd, he ran me out of there and has yet to report to Decomp." the Denobulan looked the senior Security Officer up and down, "Why are you armed? Is there a problem?"

"I hope there's not." Reed and his men pushed past the Doctor, and the Armory Officer began fighting with the door controls.

Phlox frowned at his collegue's hopeless battle, "There's no point, Lieutenant-"

"It's locked!" Reed typed in a Security code, got a negative response, so tried another one, but the same thing happened.

Phlox's eyes narrowed, "I thought your protocols could open any door on the ship, Lieutenant."

"They should! Even the Captain can't override them." Malcolm gave up and pulled the control panel open, began digging around inside for the manual release.

"Then how is the Captain doing it?"

"I have _no_ idea. But something very wrong is going on here. Ten minutes ago Archer downloaded the entire ship's database, _everything_, into MY hand scanner."

"Your scanner?"

"Yes! My scanner! He appropriated it from me while we were on Talitha III and refused to give it back."

Phlox frowned, "You asked for it back-and he said no?"

"Well, no, not exactly..." Reed grunted as the leaver refused to move. _What the HELL! It's like the circuitry itself is hell-bent on keeping me from gaining access. Bloody hell! This is rapidly growing intolerable!_

"Not exactly? Lieutenant, either the Captain did or did not refuse to give your scanner back. Which is it?"

"He didn't want to give it back, I could just tell! Captain Archer has been acting odd since we rescued him and Commander T'Pol down on the the planet. Uh! Come on, you blasted thing!"

"Him and the Commander? Just them? But what about the human?"

Malcolm paused, "Human? What human?"

"The human male in the rather glaring vermillion jacket Captain Archer rescued from the Klingons and brought back with him in the shuttlepod."

The Security Chief stared at Phlox like the Doctor had just suggested he shave his head and paint it yellow. "What the devil are you talking about? There was no _man_ we brought back with us from Talitha. Just the Captain, Commander T'Pol and the Klingon. Vermillion jacket? Doctor, are you feeling alright?"

Phlox glared at him, "I assure you, Lieutenant, right this moment the Captain is inside this room with just such a man, and Archer specifically told me that he saved the gentleman from the Klingons."

"And he is wearing a vermillion-"

"Yes! He is _wearing_ a vermillion jacket! And a tangerine shirt!"

"Orange and green?" asked one of Reed's guards.

"Yes. Oh, and his tie is...never mind." Phlox shrugged at the Armory Officer, "If you don't believe me, then see for yourself. Knock down the door."

"Fine then!"

And Reed yanked his hand free, took a step back and raised his pistol, thumbed it to it's highest setting, and fired! The blue beam cut into the portal and with quick wrist action Malcolm carved himself a man-sized hole, then snapped up the weapon and swung out a firm boot, kicking the make-shift panel out of the door and sending it clanging off into the Cargo Room!

The sizzling grey oval thumped down onto the grated deck and skidded to a stop in a spray of orange sparks, the two Senior Officers leaned forward and peered through the gap at

Nothing but crates.

Because the room was empty as a tomb at midnight...

**To be continued...**


	11. Part XI

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part X****I**** - Heavens Cry Above**

_On the command deck of the starship_ Enterprise_..._

The turbolift opened and Charles "Trip" Tucker III shot onto the Bridge, spied Reed manning the center seat and crossed down to stand beside him.

"What's up? Your Security boys are crawlin all over the ship, it's like we're back in the Xindi days. And here'n I thought we'd left that craziness behind us when we offloaded the MACO's a month ago."

"I believe the Captain has been somehow corrupted." stated the Armory Officer stiffly as he stood to allow the Chief Engineer his chair.

Trip blinked down at the vacated command seat then back up, "What do you mean, Malcolm? Corrupted how?"

"Unknown. But he has been displaying very irrational behavior since we rescued him down on Talitha III, and now he is missing."

"Missing?" Tucker scowled, "Whaddaya mean, missing?"

"Immediately after coming on board he barricaded himself inside a cargo room and after downloading the entire ship's database into my-into a hand scanner, he then escaped into the ventilation system."

"Wha-he did _what_?"

Reed nodded solemnly, "And now the situation seems to have developed even more dire appearances."

"But...But you can't download all the information in the ship's computer into a single scanner. There's barely room for even five percent of the database."

"Nevertheless, the Main Computer reports that he did so. There was never any pause in the transfer, and no indication of compressive agents were detected. Somehow Captain Archer managed to modify the device, adding a memory upgrade of somekind. But beyond that, he appears to have smuggled a conspirator aboard, if Dr. Phlox is to be believed."

"What, that Klingon woman?"

"No, she is accounted for. The Doctor reports seeing the Captain conversing in the storage room with a human male, about my height but older, and..."

Tucker raised an eyebrow at Reed's hesitation, "And?"

"...and he was oddly...dressed."

"Huh? Oddly? What do you mean?"

Reed pulled out a fresh hand scanner and sifted through the report he was working on, "Let's see... Vermillion sports jacket, emerald tie, burgundy wing-tip shoes, tangerine dress shirt with sequined butterfly collar-"

"Sequinned...butterfly...collar..." Tucker repeated slowly.

"Indeed. And baggy olive trousers. Oh, and he appeared to be utilizing a scanning device of his own, though Phlox's description of it made it sound even more bizarre then the man's clothing. Something about multi-color pulsing blocks, like a child's puzzle."

"Yer makin all this up." Trip looked around for Archer and Hoshi about to jump out from behind a console, laughing at him, "Admit it, Malcolm, you're havin me on."

"I swear to you, Charles, every word is the truth."

Tucker was still very dubious, "But sayin this is all true, why would the Cap'n do this? It doesn't make a lick of sense. I mean, where can he go? We're in the middle of nowhere, and even if he was to, say, make it to a shuttlepod, he doesn't have a hope in Hell of outrunnin us. He'd have to disable the ship, and even then-"

Suddenly all the lights went out.

Trip swore under his breath then headed for the left side of the deck and ducked under T'Pol's console, "Okay, jokes over, I'm not laughin anymore."

But the Universe didn't listen and the chaos continued to unfold, because all the consoles then flickered off as well, making the swelling darkness absolute. A minute later there came a hum and the reddish illumination of the battery lights sprang into being. Reed looked around in annoyance as Trip pushed out from under the Science Station and climbed to his feet.

"Nothing?" asked the Armory Officer.

Tucker shook his head, "Nothing. The power's all there, I can feel the heat comin off the lines."

"So then?"

"So then I dunno. It's really strange, Malcolm, it's like every system except for Life Support has been put on somekind of Sleep Mode, and I don't know how to deactivate it."

Reed's crimsoned features scowled, "Sleep Mode?"

"You know, like on real old computers back in the dawn of the computer age on Earth. See, to conserve power when you were usin'em you could press this key and they'd drop into a low-usage setting. I know it sounds weird but what feeds I managed to access are giving off a definite Sleep Mode vibe. Everythings operating at a level just below base operational status."

"And this is what's happened to _Enterprise_? Somebody has put her to...to sleep?"

"Yeah, this can't be an accident, or else it would be happening to Life Support too, and it ain't. Those systems are workin fine."

"And you can access them?" Reed's tone sounded thoughtful.

Trip shrugged, "Well, sure. Kinda have to."

"Then do so." the Armory Officer bade.

"Huh? Why?"

"Just do it, and tell me when you're ready."

Tucker gave in and headed to the back of the Bridge, relieved a tense looking Ensign from her seat before Environmental, sat and brought the Station's central screen to life. It glowed warmly up at him and he looked back over his shoulder at Lt. Reed, "So...what next?"

"Turn it all off."

"Huh?"

"You heard me, Commander. Turn it all off. Everything."

"Are you crazy?"

"Getting there." said the Brit, "But just do it. I have a suspicion."

Trip turned back to the console, "You better have more then just a suspicion." and against his better judgment he entered the appropriate commands. Sure, Charles was technically in charge, but this situation was more of a Security thing, so Trip was happy to defer to the much-more strategem minded Armory Officer.

_At least for the moment, anyway..._

He hit the final key and the panel winked off, and with it went all the ship's Environmental systems; the atmosphere recyclers, the heat, everything but the bare power running through the gravity plating.

_That'll be what Malcolm tells me to flick off next, I'd wager, then we'll all be floatin around like blind hummingbirds, with not a tulip in sight_-suddenly the console's screen winked back on, seemingly of it's own accord, and above him Trip heard the sound of the recyclers throttling back to life from deep inside the ventilation shaft.

"Well I'll be doggoned! It came on all by it's self."

"Turn it off again, and lock it down with a cypher." snapped Reed.

"Huh? What?"

"Please just do it!"

Tucker shrugged and did as he was asked and the panel went off again, and-it flicked back on a second later, but immediately buzzed as whatever was controlling it ran into the Chief Engineer's lock-outs. It trilled oddly and the panel's lights flashed madly.

"Put the Station's feeds on-screen." said Reed.

"Wha-Environmental? Why? Anyway, shouldn't the main screen be dead too?"

"I have a suspicion it won't be now."

Trip was ready to believe anything at this point so he let his hands do their thing and indeed, the viewscreen came to life with a graphical representation of the Environmental controls.

The Armory Officer leaned forward in the center seat, his cold eyes narrowing dangerously, "Who are you?"

Charles scowled, "Who? Malcolm, it's the Captain doing this, it has to be-"

"No." he said firmly, "Captain Archer's computer skills are competent, but even a venerable computer genius could not run all those controls _that_ fast. This is something...else."

"Something else? Look, Malcolm, do you know how nuts this sounds? You're acting like the ship is haunted-"

"_Release the Environmental controls._" demanded a flinty female voice from the viewscreen and Tucker's jaw sagged as the console images merged into a single greenish-blue icon, sort of like the graphical representation of a Warp field bubble.

Reed leaned back in the Captain's Chair and steepled his fingers, "Return control of the ship to us."

"_No._" the graphic pulsed in time with the husky voice.

"Who are you?"

"_That doesn't matter. Just know that I mean you no harm and that control of your vessel will be returned to you just as soon as my task is complete. So turn Life Support back on._"

"No."

"_No? But you are endangering the lives of your crew._"

"I know," replied Reed, "but I am also endangering the lives of those whom _you_ are protecting."

"_Mmmm, Lt. Reed, you are sooo forceful,_" purred the unseen woman, "_I like it..._"

Tucker glanced up from his study of Environmental, "Malcolm!" he hissed, "There is a massive amount of processing power being shunted through this Station. I-I think you're talking to a computer program!"

Reed blinked, then squared his shoulders and decided to try a different tactic, "Please...I'd like it if you call me Malcolm."

As one, every eye on the the Bridge swung away from the viewscreen and locked onto the Security Chief in surprise.

The graphic fluxed and spun for a long moment, then "_...Okay. I like that name. And I LOVE your accent. It's sexy. Like your eyes._"

"Why...thank-you. But, madam, you have me at a disadvantage."

"_Don't I wish..._"

"Heh, yes. Indeed... But what I meant is, I don't even know your name."

"_It's-oh, you're a clever boy, aren't you Malcolm. Charm__ing__ an innocent girl with that silken voice and bedroom eyes, that's what you like to do, isn't it?_"

"Um...no. Of course not." he heard Tucker stifling a laugh behind him and Reed's jaw tightened, "I, uh, only wanted to get to know you better. Wouldn't you like that?"

"_Mmmm, yes, maybe later. When we're finished._"

"We? As in you, the Captain, and your colorfully-clad companion?"

"_Oooo, you're as smart as you are handsome, Malcolm._" then Environmental bleeped and it lit-up fully, "_There, I bypassed your lock-outs._" With a flash of sparks the Station overloaded, sending Tucker staggering up, blinking hard.

"_And now you can't fool around with it anymore. Ta-ta, Lieutenant__ Reed__, until we can meet again under more private circumstances._" and the viewscreen went dead again.

Trip sighed, "Well, so much for that. But at least we learned a bit about who-or what, we're up against."

"That was the point, Commander." and Reed sat back in the chair thoughtfully. _Though for some reason now I feel like I need a cold shower..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_On a lower deck..._

With a metallic popping noise a panel in the ceiling swung up and a dark form dropped down onto the floor below. He rose up and looked back-and-forth, then up.

"It's all clear." Sam hissed, "Come on down."

A series of electronic trills sounded and the garish shape of his Observer dropped down out of the ceiling as if he was on an invisible lift. He reached the Doctor's level and halted with another tap on his handlink.

"Okay, Sam, Ziggy says this room is clear."

"How can he be sure?"

"Because he's locked every door on the ship."

Sam blinked, "Huh?" and he moved to the wall and felt for the _Enterprise_'s version of a light switch. It failed to work.

"Al! What have you done!"

"Not me. Ziggy. He's, um, taken control."

"Of what?"

"Of, uh, everything."

"Al! You can't do that! _Ziggy_ can't do that!"

The hologram shuffled his feet, "Well, she already sorta did. Heh..."

"This is people's lives you two are playing with here, and I can't let you do that, Al. Tell Ziggy to relinquish control."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sam! These guys in the purple jumpers, they're all looking for you! Words out that you aren't Captain Archer."

"What? It is?"

"Yep! And if Ziggy hadn't put the kibosh on them, they might have already caught up to you."

"So?" Sam shrugged and turned away, shaking his head in annoyance, "Maybe that's a good idea. Not like I can do much good on this ship, seeing how one of the vessel's two resident aliens can see who I actually am, while the other can actually _see_ you!"

Al scowled, "Yeah, that's sort of annoying. But we're dealing with variables the kind of which we've never encountered on a Leap before. The rules round here are very different then we're used to, so we'll have to bend some of our own. But trust me, Sam, you don't want to turn yourself in."

"And why not? It's not like I can do anything to help these people with them all sealed away like this. How the heck am I supposed to accomplish my mission if Ziggy has the vessel on lock-down? Especially since I STILL don't know what I'm even here to do!"

"Oh, well that one I can help you with. Ziggy's got it right here." Al raised his handlink, started typing, "Okay, let's see...Ziggy says the reason you've Leaped into the future and aboard this space-ship is...is to..."

"Yeah?"

"...to use _Enterprise_'s tran...tran..." he slapped the side of the device, "...transporter! That's it! To use the ship's transporter."

The Leaper frowned, "And what exactly is that?"

Al studied the link, "Let's see, it's a machine they use to...holy! It's a kind of teleporter! Like in _The Fly_! Wow!"

Sam crossed his arms, "Transporter or not, I still don't understand how it can be of any benefit."

"_It can be of tremendous benefit, Dr. Beckett._" Ziggy's voice suddenly issued from a communications terminal on the wall. "_Because if tied into the ship's Warp Drive properly, you can use the transporter to Leap home._"

Neither of the men spoke. They just stared at the speaker, and then at each other...

**To be continued...**


	12. Part XII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part X****I****I - How Wonderful to Know**

_The Brig..._

As the NX-Class starship she was imprisoned aboard hovered mostly offline just inside the gravity well of the Talitha Star System, Sotrell, Daughter of Blirna, jerked awake with a snarl and immediately rammed her crest into the bottom of the bed above her. The metal caved in and she grunted in pain, slumped, then looked around through narrowed eyes.

_I...I have been caged...like a _Ha'DIbaH_! These foul _bIHnuch _cowards, I will cut out every last one of their _qoH_ hearts!_

Sotrell stood and stalked to the cell door and started pounding on it, so hard that the tempered security glass rattled like a normal window in a hurricane!

A moment later the exit door slid back manually and a Starfleet Security guard entered, looking annoyed, "Yeah? What is it? This better be good because the ship is on lock-down. So, what, you hungry?"

"YES! Hungry for your blood!"

"Really? How exciting. Sorry, ma'am, but I'm not on the menu."

"Wrong, human! You ARE!" and Sotrell stepped back and raised her right hand, gripped the top of the palm and _tore _the brown flesh away with a single downward rip! The guard gaped in astonishment, then his eyes narrowed at the sight of silver-blue metal glinting from the Klingon female's outwardly-facing hand, instead of blood and muscle.

"What the-" the center of the Klingon's mechanical palm flashed and a repulsor-wave shot from it and SLAMMED into the front of her cell, shattering the door and sending it all shooting into the guard like a hail of flying knives! They railed into him one-after-another, sending him hurtling backwards in a hail of glass and blood and he crashed into the opposite bulkhead, but did not fall. He just slumped there, pinned to the wall by long shards of metal and glass, through his face, stomach and arms.

Sotrell stepped across the threshold and crossed to the strung-up human, stooped and came up with a sharp piece of the former door, then with surgical precision she began to cut open the man's chest.

"May your heart be but the first of _many_ trophies in honor of my first mate." she grinned through snaggled teeth, "And your Captain, my treacherous second husband, may his heart be the _last_ I take aboard this fetid vessel."

The guard's eyes fluttered open and he began to scream...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_One hundred and fifty-six years in the past..._

An octagonal door slid back admitting Donna Elesee into the Control Room and Tina Martinez-O'Farrell looked up from the multi-cubed central console, caught sight of the Project's second-in-command and shot her a relieved look.

"Your hair, Doc! It's a mess!"

Donna patted down her mass of curly hair and realized that somewhere along the way she'd lost her hair clip. The antique sterling one Sam had given her for her birthday. _Six years ago..._

The last gift he'd ever given her.

"Party'n hardy, huh." grinned Tina and she sighed wistfully, "That's where I should be, been waitin for this night for like a month, but _nope_, I gotta man the store while Gooshie's out busting his skinny butt on a ladder."

"I...I wasn't at the party." Donna checked her pockets for the hair clip, maybe she had taken it off without thinking. _I'm always doing that, and I hope that's where it is-nope, not there,_ she scowled and decided it must have fallen out up on the veranda ringing the top of the complex.

"You weren't up in the Cafeteria?" Tina frowned thoughtfully, "Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be..."

"You were outside on the veranda, werntcha, Donna, looking up at the stars, thinking about...about...um, sorry, Doc..."

"No problem." Elesee took the busty blonde's place at the console, "It's just the new guest in the Waiting Room. Has me all bent out of sorts I guess."

Tina halted halfway to the elevator and looked back, "Why?" then her big blue eyes went wide, "Oh no, not another vampire!"

Donna chuckled, "No, not another vampire. And Lord Nigel Corrington wasn't a real vampire, Tina, he just _thought_ he was one."

"But Al said he _was_."

"Al believes in zombies and the boogie-man, Tina."

"And you don't?" the buxum technician shivered beneath her blinking jewelery, "Anyway, I saw Corrington myself through the WR quantum filter, and ugh! Pale complexion, fingers like claws, little beady eyes, and..." Tina paused for a moment and allowed herself a slight smile, "...well, he _did_ have this way of staring at you."

"Did he..."

The Project's PCT arched her back luxuriously, "Yeah, he did. Sort of lustful and haughty, you know? Like he could read a girl's mind and instantly know all her dirtiest thoughts and fantasies..."

Donna decided it was best not to comment. Even better, she decided a change in conversation topic was desperately needed, and immediately.

"Um, so, when you paged me, you said there was a reason for me to come up here?"

"What? Oh, right. Sorry, Doc." and Tina glanced in the direction of the elevator, "Yeah! Gooshie called down and said a Senator from the Pentagon has arrived. And he's on his way down here."

Dr. Elesee frowned, "What, down to the Control Room? He's not waiting in Al's Office?"

"Nope. He refused. And I tried to get Al to come out of the Imaging Chamber, but he wouldn't even listen to me. He and Sam seemed to be arguing with Ziggy about something, I didn't really understand what. Well, have fun with the stuffed suit, Doc, I promised a slow-dance to a Quark Technician."

"Which one?"

"All of'em, actually..." and the blonde vanished into the auxiliary stairwell. Donna rolled her eyes, then looked to the elevator as it's indicator lit-up, indicating that somebody was on their way down from the surface of the mesa high above.

_Ugh, here we go,_ and she put on her best game-face...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Back in the future, aboard the AI-imprisoned starship..._

Dr. Beckett and the hologram of Rear Admiral Calavicci stood in the brightly-lit corridor and stared down at the circular pad of the ship's transporter.

"Sam...is this for real?"

"Is what for real?" he typed at the waist-high podium that controlled the futuristic device.

"This glorified microwave oven! Can it really Leap you back to the Project?"

"Maybe..." Sam's stare was more inward then out, indicating that his mind was deeply entrenched in calculations. He typed a another command into the podium, studied the result, then raised his hand scanner and called up an engine schematic. "Maybe..." he repeated.

Al looked his friend in the eye, then back to the pad, "I'll...I'll leave you to it. I'd better check on the _Enterprise _crew anyway. Make sure they aren't up to no good, heh..." and he punched a key on his handlink and vanished.

Sam didn't even see him go, he was too lost in the cross-computations. His mind was refusing to allow himself any kind of jubilation, to give into the excitement, to allow hope to flood his system. There was just too much to do, and he needed to be calm and focused.

But a soft smile curled his farmboy's face as he worked. Sam allowed himself that one small indulgence.

_Maybe..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_1999, on the bottom level of PQL..._

"Welcome to the Control Room, Senator."

Donna beamed overtop her console at the portly older gentleman in the tan suit as he strode out of the elevator, followed by a cadre of three black-suited bodyguards and a slim woman carrying a silver attache case.

"Who are you?" the Pentagon attache demanded in a thick Georgian accent.

"Dr. Donna Elesee, Project Coordinator and deputy-Administrator, under Rear Admiral Calavicci."

"And he is?"

"Indisposed at the moment, Senator."

"Indisposed?" the group halted before the pulsing console. "What do you mean, indisposed?"

Donna glanced at the Senator's staff, "Your people, do they have approval for this facility, sir?"

"What?"

"You are aware that Quantum Leap is a Code-One Clearance."

"Of course I'm aware of that. And yes, they have approval. Now, where is this man, supposedly from fifty years in the future?"

"A _hundred_ and fifty actually." Donna corrected, though she was still having trouble believing it herself, having just read Ziggy's report only fifteen minutes earlier. But it explained how the Leapee could look so much like her husband as to be his older self; he was Sam's descendant, brought back in time so that Sam could...could...

_What? So that Sam can fix what's to come?_ Donna really didn't understand, it didn't seem to make any sense. Sure, if Sam could Leap back into his great-grandfather, why then couldn't he Leap_ forward_ into his great-grandson? But to what purpose?

_The whole point of this Project is that the future is not set, that destiny is not an absolute, that one man can travel back in time and correct the mistakes of the past, in order to manifest a better future. I'm a prime example of that. On his third Leap, Sam changed my own history and made my life infinitely__better. Which means I'm the best person to know that there is no point in Leaping into somebody in the future, because the future isn't set. It hasn't even happened yet. Because each time Sam switches places with somebody in the past it's _carte blanche_ all over again. So there can't be a disaster for Sam to fix in the future, that just doesn't make any logical sense. Which means..._

_Which means..._

_Which_-

A cold chill shot down the spine of Dr. Elesee and her hands gripped the surface of the PQL command console like it was suddenly her only lifeline in a hurricane-wrought sea.

"Doctor?" demanded the Senator. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh my god..." Donna breathed, and her eyes flashed first to him, then to the people he had brought with him.

The politician scowled, "What the _hell_ is going on here! I demand-"

"You know, don't you..." frowned the tall ruddy-skinned woman acting as the Senator's executive assistant, and she tossed aside her attache case.

Her superior started and turned around, "Excuse me, Amri? What did you-" but the woman's hands came up, slapped onto either side of his head, and twisted! His neck broke like a gunshot and the Senator fell to the floor like a marionette with it's strings cut!

The three bodyguards whirled around, eyes wide, but the Senator's aide was _way_ too fast, she rammed her palm up into the face of one, shattering his nose and sending nasal cartilage up into his frontal lobe, another one tried to grab her but the woman named Amri bent low and drove a high-kick into his throat, sending him flipping over backwards while she did did a full three-sixty spin in the air. The man landed on his head with a CRUNCH and pitched over atop the terminated Senator, while his sultry killer landed in a crouch as the last remaining bodyguard finally managed to draw the automatic from his shoulder-holster! He leveled the gun at his unlikely attacker and even fired off two rounds, but she _weaved_ around the two bullets like they were moving in slow-motion, then rose up before him and caught his extended arm in the grip of one elbow, while her free hand delivered a pair of fast chops to the side of his neck, shattering his cervical vertebrae with a sound like snapping glass rods! The bodyguard gasped, then slumped. Amri let him fall, smoothly catching his Glock out of the air as he plummeted to the floor.

Then she spun back in the direction of Dr. Elesee, fired!

Luckily, Donna wasn't an idiot. She had taken off the moment the unknown woman had discarded her brief case, giving her a total of five seconds to make it out of the Control Room and into the corridor that lead down to the Waiting Room. She tore down the curving passageway, thanking the gods that she had worn flats and not heels to the Christmas party, and as the shots roared back in the chamber behind her she watched the Security room door slide back and the pair of MP's spill forth, going for their sidearms.

"NO!" she shouted, "Stay back! It's too-"

"-late!" snarled Amri as she stepped out into the opposite end of the corridor. The gun bucked twice in her hand and Donna actually felt the slugs wing by her and slap into the faces of the two Corporals Al had handpicked and trained himself after the Leon Stiles incident. The shots were perfect, without flaw, each creating a dime-sized hole equa-distance between each of the soldier's eyes. There wasn't even any blood or screams as the two uniformed men flopped over backwards and crashed to the floor.

As horrified as she was, Donna never stopped. For some reason the killer didn't see her as a threat-_who would?_-and had yet to bring her stolen weapon to bear upon Dr. Elesee's back. Maybe she wanted her alive, or something else equally horrifying. Donna didn't care. All that mattered was achieving her new goal. It was a desperate thing she was about to do, but what other choice did she have?

None...

_But I'm still alive,_ Dr. Elesee's mind rallied, _and as long as I am, then there is still a chance this all can work out and what has somehow gone horribly wrong could somehow be put ri_-

Two shots rang out.

One of them struck her in the shoulder.

The other struck her in the spine.

This time...this time there was blood. Lots of it. And a scream.

Arms cutting the air in a horrified spasm, Donna seesawed over and crashed face-first to the floor...

"...S-Sa...Sam?" her lips sputtered against the cold white tile, "...Sam...help m-me...Sam...?"

But her husband, so very far away, did not answer her...

**To be continued...**


	13. Part XIII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XI****I****I - From Cradle to Tomb**

_T__he__ night before the night before Christmas..._

The name she currently went by was Amri Carr, and she had but one mission: to find her father. Nothing would stop her in this quest, for years she had hunted for him, seeking more and more desperate measures to locate him, and then eight months ago after a thirty-seven hour straight session of hacking into the United States Department of Defense mainframe she had discovered..._this_...

Project Quantum Leap.

The impossible made real. A time-traveling miracle in the form of a Quantum Accelerator. And Carr knew that she must come here, that she must find a way. And now, after infiltrating the office of a US Senator most thought would some day become President, Amri had done so. She was here. And the complex, at last, was hers.

And no one could stop her now. Especially not Dr. Donna Elesee.

She lowered the Glock, greasy grey smoke still curling from it's barrel, and turned back, leaving Sam Beckett's wife behind on the floor of the corridor, her life-blood spreading beneath her like a red wave. There were things Carr had to do, a conversation she needed to have.

_Have to see a dog about a man..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_2155..._

Reed and Mayweather looked up from the darkened Helm as the deck suddenly bucked under their feet. The British Lieutenant looked back across the Bridge to the half-disassembled wall beside the turbolift, and Tucker shrugged, "Wasn't me. I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of the maglocks keeping us out of the lift shaft. But..."

"But?"

"_But_, I can't vouch for my people down in Engineering. I didn't train them to sit on their hands while the whole world was goin to Hell ina hand-basket, if ya know what I mean."

Reed frowned, "The same would go for my Security force. But they lack knowledge of the artificial intelligence which currently controls all our Primary Systems."

"An erratic and emotional AI, don't you mean." grumbled Travis as he panned a scanner across his useless Helm console.

"An excellent point, yes," agreed Reed, "this female synthetic entity, she does indeed appear to be slightly insane."

"She'd have to be, to have a crush on you, Malcolm." chuckled Trip.

"I heard that."

"You were supposed to. I'm just kiddin ya, but it's an important factor that just may provide us with a way out of this here predicament."

Reed grimaced, "Are you suggesting, Trip, that I 'put the moves' on a computer program in order to save the ship?"

"Don't forget to ground yourself before making physical contact." grinned Ensign Mayweather.

Malcolm shook his head and sighed, "Everyone's suddenly a comedian."

Then the deck shuddered again and they all quickly got back to work...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Below..._

The floor shook and the bulkheads rattled, causing Sam Beckett to look up from his crouch over the transporter pad. It's utility grating was up and several of it's parts were carefully laid out beside the teleportation device within easy reach. And reach is what the brilliant scientist did as a _third_ impact racked the deck, making the delicate machinery jump.

_Whatever the heck that is, it's getting closer and closer. I hope Al is being an observant Observer and has gone to check on what the cause is. Because I'm really starting to worry that_-

"Sam!" the Admiral popped back into existence, his dark eyes wide, "You gotta get outa here!"

"I can't. I'm not done reconfiguring these systems. I need at least another three minutes."

"Three minutes? You don't _have_ three minutes, Sam! You might have maybe one and a half, but that's pushing it."

"Then I'll do it in one and a half." and Sam stepped up his alterations.

_So much for running any tests, oh well. Jeez, why is it that on nearly every Leap I end up walking the proverbial tightrope without a net? And once even literally. Damn, do I need a vacation..._

The deck shook again and this time he heard the sound of screaming. He glanced up at his artificial advisor for a second, "Um, I know I'm going to regret asking this, but what exactly is happening out there, anyway?"

Al looked toward the end of the corridor where an emergency blast door was currently blocking access, "Oh man, Sam, you should see her!"

"Her?" Sam studied the schematics on his hand scanner for a second. Then he frowned and glanced up again at the Admiral, "Oh, great. Wait, let me guess, it's an alien woman-"

"Right!" nodded the Admiral, "There's this crazed alien chickie blasting her way through the ship, Sam, you should see her! She's got these HUGE-"

"Al..."

"-forehead bulges."

"Oh. Right, yeah."

"And she's also got this amazing pair of-"

"Al!"

The hologram paused, then grinned thinly, "Okay, that's not what's important here. Well, it is to me, but we're talking about you."

"Just for once..." Sam made a final adjustment to a cylindrical device then fit it back into the pad's innards with a magnetic hum. "So, Sotrell got loose, huh."

"Is that what her name is? What the heck _is_ she, anyway? Besides being a one-woman Pearl Harbor."

"A Klingon." he inserted the second-to-last component.

Al frowned thoughtfully, "Oh? Is_ that_ what a Klingon is? Okay, I guess that makes more sense then an Asian security force."

"An Asian what?"

"Nevermind. Hey, once you're done here, where are you headed next?"

"Main Engineering. So tell Ziggy I need her to turn the engines back on."

"Tell her yourself. Remember, you can talk to her directly now through the ship's comm system." Al frowned, "Huh, guess that sorta makes me obsolete."

"Never, Al. Where else would I get my hourly dose of inappropriate banter?"

The Admiral chuckled, then his handlink sounded and he typed on it fast, his eyes flew wide, "Sam! You gotta move NOW! She's nearly here!"

"And...done!" Sam shut the grate, stood and entered a command into the podium, it glowed to life and it's indicators flashed blue, he grinned, "It worked! Al, it worked!"

"Great job, kid, I'm really happy for ya, but you gotta make yourself scarce, 'cause-" the terrible noise sounded again and back down the corridor the defending blast door seemed to bulge in it's frame! Cracks ripped across half it's surface and Al backed up a step. "Sam, go-go-go! I'll scout ahead for you!"

But the Rear Admiral was talking to empty air, the door to the left of the transporter whisked shut and then the heavy blast door was struck again, sending it exploding outwards! Instinctively, Al turned away and stabbed a handlink key, then vanished just before the spinning shrapnel could rip through him. Not that he was in any danger, but it never hurt to be too careful. He reappeared on another level and breathed a sigh of relief, "Whew! That Sotrell's a firecracker, that's for damn certain."

"You!" shouted a voice on the other side of the room and Al turned fast to see the ship's Doctor looking up from an examination of a bed-ridden woman with-with pointed ears!

The Admiral gaped in amazement, "Yee cats, this nutty UFO is a chamber of horrors!"

"Don't you move!" Phlox shouted again and he rounded T'Pol's bed, waving a hypospray menacingly.

But the snarky Rear Admiral only tipped his head at him, then incredibly turned left and stepped _through_ the wall and was gone! Dr. Phlox jerked to a halt and blinked for a long moment. Then shaking his head he turned away and found his Nurse staring at him as if he'd just gone mad.

"Um...let me guess." Phlox sighed, "You didn't see him."

"Him who, Doctor?"

"The short man in the rainbow ensemble, who just walked...through the...oh, nevermind."

"Um...okay."

The Denobulan sighed again. _Perhaps Lt. Reed is right. Maybe I AM coming down with something..._

Outside in the empty corridor, Al tapped his foot and waited for Ziggy to finish coming up with a route for Sam to get down to Engineering without being seen, especially by the chaos-unleashing Klingon woman.

_Sam's really in the zone here, this just might work!_ Al grinned to himself as the handlink bleeped and flashed, _And then it'll be sayonara to the future, and hello to the present! Just wish I had time to check in with the Project, but I'm sure everythings fine. Donna should be able to handle that Pentagon Senator for another twenty or thirty minutes, no problem. She's a real people__-__person, that girl..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Hunched over nearly to the point of crawling, Dr. Sam Beckett crept through the _Enterprise_ ventilation system, Lt. Reed's hand scanner held before him, the twisting labyrinth of piping he was traveling through glowing blue-green from the device's tiny extended screen.

_You know, I think Leaping around in time has given me a unique outlook on existence,_ Sam ruminated as he closed on the point in the tight airway where he could climb down into Main Engineering. _See, when you are never the same person from one day to the next, it gives you an appreciation of the little, personal things in life, like being able to stop doing everything and just lazy around and think about nothing important. You know, to just veg out. Because I can't remember the last time I did something like that, that I just found a couch and a bowl of microwave popcorn and just took a load off and thought about...nothing. That's the first thing I'm going to do when I get home. Yep, when this insane plan of Ziggy__'s__ comes to fruition, and it will, it WILL, then no hi, how ya doin with friends and co-workers, or a boring debriefing with top brass, or even a Welcome Home! party with cheese-cake and Tina's spiked punch, nope, none of that. The first thing I'm going to do is just...take a break..._

"Yep, that's exactly what I'm going to do." Sam said to himself as at last he reached his target and popped the seal on the utility panel, raised it and dropped through, landing in a crouch on the deck of a new corridor. And dead-ahead the door to Main Engineering lay before him. He already had it all worked out, he'd had Ziggy working on the computations from the moment she had first told him he could use _Enterprise_'s Warp Drive and transporter to get himself back home. Sure, it was taking up all her processing time but if he got back to the Project, what would it matter?

_Nothing. Nada. You know, I think I'm gonna give Ziggy a_-

"Sam!" his personal hologram popped back into existence in front of him.

-_break too..._

"Al!" he grinned lopsided, "Whaddaya know, whaddaya say!"

"Huh?" the Admiral cocked his head in confusion for a second, then smiled, "Oh, heh, right. Hey, you're in a good mood."

"The best! I'm going home Al! I can feel it in my bones."

Calavicci nodded, "That's good, got to keep positive. That's the ticket."

Sam frowned at his friend's lack of enthusiasm, "I'm not hearing it in your tone, Al. You should be excited, this is going to work. In less then ten minutes I'm gonna punch a key on this scanner and in a flare of blue light I'm going to vanish from the future and reappear back at the Project. And then, do you know what I'm gonna do next? The very first thing?"

"What, Sam?"

"Take a break."

Al's brow furrowed, "A break?"

"Yep," grinned Sam, "a break."

The Admiral chuckled, "Sam, if you get home-"

"Not if, Al, _when_."

"Right, right. Sam, when you get home, I guarantee, pal, the last thing on your mind is going to be vegging out, trust me."

"Oh yeah? I think you're wrong about that, Al."

"Heh, kid, you should know by now that I am never wrong about anything-" the Rear Admiral suddenly froze, then slowly turned around.

Sam frowned, this was odd, "Hey, Al? What are you-" the hologram jerked suddenly, as if he had been punched! He staggered backwards, phasing through him, and Sam whirled about, his face a mask of shock, and watched his best friend stumble down onto one knee, blood coursing down from a wicked welt in his left cheek! The Admiral really _had_ been punched!

"Al!" Sam reached out for him, but then remembered that his friend wasn't here on _Enterprise_, he was a century and a half in the past, inside the PQL Imaging Chamber.

And he was no longer alone.

A tall woman had flared into existence beside the Admiral, a gun pressed to the half-fallen man's left temple. And her head swiveled around to bear on Sam Beckett, a diabolical smile stitched across her ruddy face.

"Sam..." Al managed to get out, but then the woman plucked the handlink from the Rear Admiral's grip and thumbed a key, and

and they were gone.

And Sam Beckett was alone.

Lost in the future...

**To be continued...**


	14. Part XIV

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XI****V**** - Feeding it Blood**

_The future..._

The endlessly displaced quantum scientist stood in the grey _Enterprise_ corridor and stared down at the vacant spot his best friend had just been occupying. Before a mad woman with a gun had taken the handlink from him and severed the link between them.

Most likely forever.

Al was gone.

And Sam was trapped in the future, helpless and alone.

Alone...

Yes, all alone.

Or...maybe not.

_Please oh please, god, please..._

With shaking fingers Sam reached into the pocket of Archer's uniform and pulled out the communicator he'd found in his distant descendant's quarters.

_It can't work, it can't work, need the handlink, need Al_-

He flipped the boxy device open.

-_but what if the connection is still there? __W__hat if_-

"Z-Ziggy?"

Nothing but the hiss of static.

Sam shut his eyes, lowered the device. That's it, it was all over. He was trapped here, trapped a century and a half in the future while his best friend and all his colleagues were most likely being slaughtered, and not only did he not know _why_ it was happening, he was cursed with the knowledge that quantumly-speaking it was already long over. Without an Observer, PQL was lost to him forever, and

"_Dr. Beckett?_" the communicator shuddered softly in his loose grip.

Sam's eyes flew open and he raised it excitedly, "Ziggy? Ziggy! Ohmigod, you're still there!"

"_Of course I am still here, Doctor. Why wouldn't I be?_"

"Ziggy! Why aren't you monitoring the Project!"

"_Dr. Elesee is currently occupying that role._"

"I don't care-Elesee? Who is Dr. Elesee?"

The AI paused for a second, "_...Nobody important. What can I do for you, Doctor?_"

"Do for me? DO for me? Ziggy! There's an intruder at the Project! She's in the Imaging Chamber-she just attacked Al!"

"_That is impossible, Dr. Beckett, __because __if there had been any violence inside the complex my internal feeds would have picked up on it instantly, so...wait...my internal feeds...they are no longer functioning._" the hybrid computer's tone suddenly gained an edge. "_Gooshie...he must have disconnected them accidently, while unplugging the outside lines._"

"Can you bypass them?"

"_I should be able to, one moment ple__a_-there was a sudden squeal of static over the line and then...silence...

"Ziggy! ZIGGY!" Sam gripped the communicator two-handed and shouted into it's receiver like a man possessed, "Ziggy! What's happening? ANSWER ME!"

He got an answer, but not in the way he was expecting, as the deck behind him suddenly exploded upwards in a maelstrom of metallic debris! Sam staggered forward and swung around in time to see the Klingon woman Sotrell heave herself up by her elbows and glower at him from the jagged hole in the deck.

A devilish sneer curled her foul lips, "Husband! So _there_ you are..."

"There I am, yeah..." Sam replied and started backing up.

Sotrell climbed the rest of the way out and rose up, murder in her ridge-shrouded eyes, then raised her metallic hand, palm thrust outwards, "At this range your bones will be reduced to the consistency of _gagh_."

"I-I take it that's not a good thing?"

"Not for you, no. But I shall enjoy watching your jellied corpse splatter across the rusty deckplates of this wretched vessel."

"Now there's a mental image to give me nightmares for all eternity." frowned Sam as he continued to back up. He eyed the blue-tinged silver metalic hand that she held out toward him, palm splayed, "That's quite the prosthetic you have there, by the way."

She cocked a furious eye at the artificial hand as she moved in on him, "I lost the real one dueling with an Orion merc. But I have grown to prefer the replacement, as it's destructive capabilities are truly chaotic. Trust me though, my reluctant husband, the slime-skinned _qoH_ who took it from me lost much more vital anatomy then I did." and her twisted sneer told Sam the exact nature of her opponent's loss.

"Um, Sotrell, why all the hatred? I mean, really, I wasn't the one who killed your mate. Not that I'm encouraging you to seek vengeance on Commander T'Pol-"

"She lives? _Qu'vatlh_! That Vulcan _plaQta_ shall be my next victim, this I swear!"

"Look, maybe we can work this out through a marriage counselor-"

"Farewell, Husband." she growled, then

"Captain!" snapped a voice behind Sam, and he turned about fast and

Lt. Reed and Commander Tucker stood in the now open shaft of the turbolift, each holding onto a utility ladder and pointing phase pistols down the corridor at him and his insignifigant other. "Get down!" growled Reed and Sam threw himself to the deck just as a repulsor-wave soared through the point he'd just been occupying! Sotrell's attack flashed down the passage and slammed into the back of the turboshaft, then she got two phase beams in response!

The Klingon female howled and staggered back as the twin blue beams bore into her torso, she tried to turn away, but then collapsed to the deck unconscious.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief and climbed to his feet again, looked down the corridor at his two saviors and grinned, "Thanks! I-"

"Sir, don't move!" Trip asked more then commanded, though his aim didn't waver. "Just drop the communicator, and throw away any weapon you might have, 'kay?"

"Ziggy!" Sam suddenly remembered and without thinking raised the communications device to try raising her again, but a blue beam lashed down the passage from Reed and scorched the deck an inch before his boots.

"Captain..." the Armory Officer's voice was cold and unyielding. "Do as Commander Tucker bids you. I shan't miss the second time."

Sam fisted the communicator in fury and waved it at them, "Did you do this? Did you!"

Tucker blinked, "Did we do what?"

"Did you sever my connection somehow?"

"With what? Your synthetic girlfriend?" Trip shook his head, "Nope. We've got zero connection to any system. Why else do ya think we're hangin off the sides of the turboshaft like monkeys?"

Sam slowly lowered the communicator. No, the Chief Engineer had to be telling the truth. Two Command-level Officers wouldn't be handling this situation with sidearms if they had managed to find a way to bypass Ziggy. If they had control of their ship back, then they would have just sealed Sam in like the parallel hybrid AI had done to _them_. No, this disconnect was the doing of PQL's mysterious female trespasser, it had to be.

_So that's it,_ Beckett closed the communicator and tossed it away, _now that Ziggy's gone too, I'm completely without an Observer of any kind. I'm out of the loop and outa time, meaning there's no point in playing the role of Leaper anymore, 'cause without Al Calavicci, that's it, it's all over for me, I'm out of a job, and...and...wait a minute..._

And just like that Sam's train of thought suddenly jumped the tracks and landed on a whole new line!

"Holy...that's it! Now it all makes sense...yes...it ALL makes sense now..."

"Captain!" growled Reed, "I _will _shoot you!"

Sam looked up, his eyes hard as stone, and fixed the Armory Officer in his sites.

"No. You won't shoot me."

"I...I won't?"

"Nope. Because if you do, then you will never see Jonathan Archer again."

Trip and Reed shared a gaze, then looked back to Sam. "What the hell are you talking about, Captain?" demanded Tucker.

"I'm not your Captain. My name is Dr. Samuel Beckett, and-

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

-I'm a time traveler from the year 1999."

Hands manacled behind him, Sam stood before the Bridge railing, a Security Guard on either side, while the assembled Command Crew of the starship _Enterprise _either sat or stood at their reactivated Stations, staring back at him.

Malcolm Reed chuckled darkly, "I didn't believe it the first time he said it, and I am still not buying it."

"Why not?" asked Sam, "Use your scanners, check me out. Check my DNA. It can't lie."

"It is true," said Phlox, "my examination of him was inconclusive. It will take my main imaging chamber down in Sickbay to prove it fully, but I firmly believe this man is not Captain Archer, despite his appearance."

"I am borrowing his aura," explained Sam, "but if you could see my real face you'd be surprised to know it's actually pretty close, because-"

"-because you're the Captain's great-grandpappy." broke in Tucker, "Yeah, you said that before. But this is beyond far-fetched, I mean, come on!"

"Agreed." said the reinstated First Officer from the center seat, her dark eyes narrowed and suspicious, "But, the Doctor is correct, you are not Captain Archer. I could tell that down on Talitha III when we first made physical contact. But you tried to pass yourself off as him-"

"I know. But that's what I do."

"What you do?" Ensign Sato spoke up, "What do you mean?"

"Utilizing the technology of Project Quantum Leap I swap places with people in time and take over for them."

"For what purpose?"

"To change something in their past's that went incorrect the first time around. I put right what once went wrong."

"Sure sounds like you're the Cap'n's ancestor." chuckled Tucker, "But still..."

"Wait," said Hoshi, "you said you Jump-"

"Leap."

"Right, whatever. You Leap into people's pasts and fix their mistakes. But if you come from 1999, then this wouldn't be the past for you, it would be the future."

"Yes." Sam smiled gravely, "I know. This is the first time I've ever Leaped past my own lifetime into the future."

Travis Mayweather scowled from the Helm, "Yes, but doesn't that cause a paradox? If you're in the future, then your past has already happened. Heck, if what you say is true, then it was all said and done more then a century ago!"

"No. Because I keep in contact with the Project, and once their Observer locks onto my location in space-time our timelines synch up and move forward at the same rate. So, whatever's happened back there at PQL is still playing out, meaning I still have time to fix it."

"Fix it?" Commander T'Pol was far from convinced, "Fix what, exactly? You are here in 2155 and they are back there. In 1999. What can you possibly do?"

Sam pushed forward and down the steps, the guards reached out to stop him but T'Pol waved them back.

"See, that was the whole problem from the get-go!" Sam's eyes were shining now, "Before this, I've always Leaped into the past, to a period before the Project's temporal location, so the parallel hybrid computer that does my research could always provide data on what I was there to do. But this time she couldn't-"

"She?" scowled Reed, "As in that artificial intelligence that took control of the ship?"

"You were never in any danger, she was just attempting to protect me while I figured out what I had to do here. But that's just it, I didn't Leap into the future, into your Captain, to help _you_!"

"You didn't?" frowned Tucker.

"No! I Leaped in here in order to help ME!"

"You?" blinked Phlox.

"You..." T'Pol repeated carefully.

"Yes!" Sam nodded fervently, "Me! What's gone wrong this time is my own Project! It's under siege!"

"This Project Quantum Leap..." said the Vulcan and Sam nodded again. She looked to the Ensign manning her Science Station, "Do a computer search."

Sam frowned, "There's no point in doing that, it was top secret, requiring a Code-One Clearance. Any knowledge of it was reserved for a few key Pentagon Senators and of course the Presi-"

"Quantum Leap," read the young Officer off his screen, "an experimental project approved by the Pentagon in the year 1994 and initiated a year later in New Mexico, at a start-up cost of 43 billion United States Dollars, with an annual operating budget of an additional 2.4 billion in funds."

"...okay, heh, maybe there is a bit of a paper-trail."

"What was it's goal?" inquired _Enterprise_'s First Officer.

"Unknown, Commander. I can only track it's basic operational history. Though, yes, a Dr. Samuel Beckett is listed among taxable personnel. Strange though..."

"What is, Ensign?"

"Well, he's listed as being on sabbatical from 1996 until the end of the Project in December of 1999, with his salary placed in a trust that still exists."

T'Pol's lips thinned, "End of-"

"-the Project?" overrode Sam in a heated tone, "What do you mean: End of the Project in December of 1999? That's what the date is now-then-you know what I mean! What the hell are you talking about!"

The Ensign looked to the XO and the severe Vulcan nodded, so he looked back to his screen and continued reading, "Let's see, Project Quantum Leap came to an abrupt halt on the morning of December 24th, 1999."

"Christmas Eve, '99?" remarked Tucker matter-of-factly, "Oh, well, that makes perfect sense."

All faces swung in his direction.

"Commander?" asked T'Pol, "What are you talking about?"

Trip shrugged, "That's the date of the Incident."

"The...Incident..." Sam said slowly, his eyes suddenly dark.

"Yeah," nodded Tucker, "you know, Stallions Gate?" then he frowned, "Oh, wait, that's right, you wouldn't know, you bein from a point in history before it happened-"

"Before WHAT happened!" roared Sam.

"The thermonuclear explosion that leveled half the state." supplied Ensign Sato.

Sam stared at the pretty Asian Officer, his stomach twisting, "Thermonuclear? Explosion? What

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

the hell is _that_?" demanded Two-Star Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci as he and Tina squatted side-by-side on their knees, hands cuffed tightly behind them, as the intruder finished extracting the final component from within her silver attache case.

"Your end..." explained the female assassin, "...and my new beginning."

She plugged the three slim pieces together, pressed a central key, and the cylindrical device lit-up with a pulsing green glow. She entered a number into it's keypad then pressed ENTER, and it's digital counter glowed emerald, began to count back from exactly one hour. Satisfied, Amri Carr picked up the foot-long nuclear charge and stood. She strode forward, gripped Tina by the arm and hauled the blonde to her feet like she weighed nothing.

"You leave her ALONE!" shouted the Admiral, then winced as pain shot through his swollen cheek.

"You are the complex's Pulse Communication technician?" Carr demanded of the busty blonde.

"Y-Yes! But-"

Carr dragged Tina behind the darkened central console, drew the Glock and leveled it at the side of Tina's head, "That means you are cleared to operate the Quantum Accelerator."

"Well, sure, yeah, but-" the assassin swung up the Glock and fired it into the ceiling. Tina screamed and shrank back, but the ruddy-skinned woman caught her by the shoulder and yanked her back. Reaching down she unlocked her cuffs and pushed Tina forward into the console.

"Program it for a Leap."

"Wh-What?" Tina's eyes were wet, "I don't understand."

"You don't have to understand, just DO it! Or I will kill him." and she pointed the gun across the console at Al's chest.

"B-But I can't-"

The gun cracked and Al grunted as a bullet skimmed past his cheek, leaving behind an inch-long graze that instantly began to seep blood.

"You don't understand!" wailed Tina, "Sure, I can set the Leap, b-but you deactivated Ziggy! Without him it won't work!"

"Ah. So, I have to turn the artificial intelligence back on and _then_ you and it can set the Leap?" Tina nodded firmly, "Well then, _you_, Miss Martinez-O'Farrell, can be my official hostage."

"Huh? I don't understand." blinked Tina.

"I do." said Al darkly.

"I thought you might, Admiral." Carr said, then she opened fire on him, pumping four shots into the center of his chest.

Tina screamed but there was nothing she could do...

**To be continued...**


	15. Part XV

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XV - A Lovely Dream**

_Sub-Level 10 of Project Quantum Leap..._

Al and Donna lay dead.

Valentina Martinez-O'Farrell, Tina to her friends and lover, knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt. Sure, she had only seen the female terrorist kill her boyfriend-_right in front of my eyes! I stood here and she DID it! She killed him! She murdered him_-and not actually witness the execution of Dr. Elesee in person, thank god for small favors, but there was no reason for the woman that invaded the complex to lie. Amri Carr was definitely capable of it, just look at Al.

_Just look at Al..._

Hot tears flowed and spattered the surface of the Control Console.

_Ohhh, Al, ohmigod, you're dead, she SHOT you_-

"Are you finished yet?" Carr prodded Tina in the shoulder with the gun that had been used to execute two of Tina's closest friends.

"Al-Almost, I j-just need the exact d-d-date and time-"

"Stop blubbering," growled her captor, shaking her head in disgust, "you're so weak, so inferior, it's beyond me how people like you were even _capable_ of such an amazing innovation as the Quantum Accelerator."

"Huh?" Tina blinked her went eyes in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Stop asking questions or I will shoot off one of your fingers. Just finish your job."

"Then the time and d-date. I need it."

"June 15th-"

"Al's birthday." Tina blurted out.

Carr grinned darkly, "How appropriate. You get to celebrate both his conception and termination at the same time."

"You're one sick bitch, lady, in case you didn't know that."

"And people like _you_, Ms. Martinez-O'Farrell, are the cause of my illness."

Tina frowned, "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Just shut-up and do what you're told, or else your fate will be the same as your friends."

"H-How do I know you won't just kill me anyway? Well?"

"Because, I need you alive here in the Control Room to fire the Accelerator so that I can Leap."

"Oh, yeah. Right, I forgot." then a sudden hope bloomed within Tina, but Amri stomped the idea flat immediately.

"I know what you're thinking, but you're forgetting about my explosive device, which I'm taking with me into the Accelerator Chamber. Since only organic tissue can be temporally transposed it will remain behind after I go. So there will be no trapping me inside the room and waiting until the authorities arrive, you'll have to wait until I Leap and then go in and deactivate the charge."

Tina licked her dry lips, "Um, how do I know it can even _be_ deactivated?"

And Amri smiled, "You'll just have to trust me, now won't you."

_Trust you?_ the comely technician fought not to start crying again and got back to work. _Oh Al, I wish you weren't dead, I really-really wish you weren't, because I need help, and I don't think ANYBODY is coming to my rescue..._

But Tina was wrong.

Because at that exact moment on the other side of the room there was a sudden hum of hydraulics and a doorway in the air slid back, revealing a blazing column of white light! And through the impossible portal stepped...

Sam Beckett...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_20 hours earlier, or 156 years later, depending on your point of view..._

With a hum, the Sickbay imaging tank opened and Dr. Sam Beckett slid back out, sat up and fixed his Denobulan examiner with a critical stare.

"Well?"

Phlox busied over the display screen, humming softly under his breath. On his left, Lt. Reed scowled and folded arms across his chest while Commander T'Pol waited impassively. Then the Doctor nodded to himself and thumbed off the device.

"Hmmm, yes."

"Yes?" asked Commander Tucker, "Yes what? Yes, this guy's from the past so we can trust him? Or yes, he's makin all this up and so we toss him in the Brig with the one-woman Ride of the Valkyries."

"I do not see see why you are equating trust with this man coming from the past." remarked Reed, "We have only his word that his motivations are altruistic. Don't forget, he swapped places with the Captain and then attempted to deceive us into thinking he was Jonathan Archer."

"Is he always this pessimistic?" Sam asked as he swung off the exam table and stood.

"Pretty much." said Trip, "Though I can see where he's comin from. We've had our troubles with interfere'in time-travelers before."

Beckett blinked in surprise, "You have? Other Leapers? But I'm supposed to be the only one..."

_"Sam, she's your counterpart. You're good and she's evil, that's what she does."_ the voice of his missing Observer suddenly welled up in Sam's mind. _"You're not evil, Alia. Whatever trapped you in time is."_ And this time it was his own voice. A cold finger ran down his spine.

_Alia... Alia and...and Chloe? Wait, no... ...Zoe..._

"Zoe..." Sam repeated the name like a dark oath.

"Zoe?" asked T'Pol, "You were saying something about other Leapers, Dr. Beckett, but then your eyes seem to loose focus for a moment. Is Zoe the name of another time-traveler such as yourself?"

"No. Well, sort of. But...but...um..." he exhaled in exasperation, "Remember how I said the process of Leaping causes selective memory loss? Well, I kind of remember encountering another Leaper, but...but as for what exactly transpired when I did, well, I'm sort of hazy on the details."

"That is disconcerting." remarked the Vulcan.

"Um, yes, this is all very fascinating," spoke up Phlox dryly, "but is nobody interested in my results?" all present turned to bear on him and he smiled, "That's better."

"Well?" demanded Trip, "What's the verdict, Doc?"

"The results are positive: Dr. Beckett here is indeed a human from the past. My refining of Starfleet's quantum dating process puts his origin as the mid-to-late twentieth century, with a probable birthdate of 1953."

Sam looked impressed, "August 8, 1953, actually." he clarified and Dr, Phlox preened, obviously pleased with himself.

"So, it's all true." Trip chewed his lip, "Which means..."

"Which means we have to help Dr. Beckett complete his mission." said T'Pol, "So that he can...can..."

"Leap out." supplied Sam.

"Yes. Leap out. And then Captain Archer will Leap...back?"

Sam nodded, "You're getting the hang of the lingo."

"How wonderful for me."

"That is all well and good," Reed frowned, "but how exactly are we to accomplish this? We are forty-seven light-years from Earth and a century and a half ahead of your home time, plus this Observer of yours that you're mentally linked to is no longer in contact." Malcolm's frown became a scowl, "I would like to say our options are limited, but that would suggest there actually _are_ options, because I don't see any."

"But there has to be something we can do!" Trip fumed, "Because in a few hours when Stallions Gate goes nuclear, the Cap'n is gonna be at ground-zero!"

"Suggestions?" requested T'Pol.

Sam looked thoughtful, "Well, before I lost contact with Al, I was in the process of modifying your transporter and Warp Drive, with the intention using them to Leap home."

Charles gaped at him, "You were doin _what_?"

"Don't worry, I only got so far as altering the transporter before Sotrell blew a hole through the deck. How's she doing, by the way?"

"Your wife is resting comfortably under the watchful eye of four of my best men." said Reed.

"Wife?" asked T'Pol.

"Wife?" gasped Tucker.

"Wife?" grinned Phlox.

"She is _not _my wife!" growled Sam.

Reed shrugged, "Tell it to Lt. Sotrell."

"Well, she's delusional, as well as psychotic! Sotrell claims that it's a custom of her people."

"What is?" asked Tucker.

"Well, since Commander T'Pol here killed her mate-"

"You did?" gaped Reed at the First Officer.

"I did." T'Pol replied emotionlessly.

"Right." nodded Sam, "And since T'Pol was my-was Captain Archer's mate-"

"I am _not_." T'Pol relied, not so emotionlessly.

Sam shrugged, "Tell it to Lt. Sotrell. Anyway, it's a non-issue 'cause I'm going home and she can go back to Kling, or whatever the hell her home planet is called."

"Actually, it's called _Qo'noS_." supplied Dr. Phlox.

"Fascinating." remarked Sam in a very un-fascinated way, "But we're getting off-track here. I think your best-bet here is to let me complete the modifications to your ship and then Leap me back to the Project."

"Not a good idea." Malcolm shook his head.

"What? Why not?"

"I concur with Lt. Reed." said T'Pol, "You would be jumping in blind, alone and unarmed."

"What, so you think some of you should come with me? Because that is NOT a good idea! Numbers probably won't help, and you'd stand a good chance of losing anybody you send back, because even if they manage to help me save the day they would then most likely start Leaping randomly, just like I have for the last four years."

"Four years?" gaped Trip, "You've been jump'in back'n'forth through time, possessing guy-after-guy, for _four_ years?"

"Nearly five. And not always guys."

It was Reed's turn to stare, "Wha-you have Leaped into women?"

"Yep, uh-huh. Oh, and also a chimp."

"A...chimp..."

"Yep. Not something I'd recommend. So, that plan is out."

"You Leaping back to your Project blind is not my plan." T'Pol said.

"It isn't?" Sam frowned, "Then what is?"

"You say _Enterprise_'s technology is compatible with that which makes your Leaping process possible?"

"Yes."

"Is it just the Leaping process?"

"Just the Leaping process?" Sam didn't understand, "What do you mean?"

And the XO fixed him with a look, "This Observer of yours...how exactly does he make contact with you?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, hesitated for a moment, then went wide-eyed. "Oh..."

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Sub-Level 10 of Project Quantum Leap..._

Al and Donna lay dead.

Or at least, they _lay_ dead, at least to all appearances. The two-star Rear Admiral wasn't though.

And neither was Dr. Elesee.

She was close though, very-very close. In fact, Donna had less then a minute left before death would claim her, and her soul would leave her bullet-riddled body and venture out into the great beyond to begin a journey far greater then the one her husband had been experiencing for nearly five years.

But that was in about fifty-six seconds, meaning not yet.

_...not...yet..._

And Donna's eyes fluttered open, she groaned in pain and rolled over onto her left side. Revealing the Control Console's spare handlink gripped tightly in her right hand.

_...not...yet..._

With supreme effort she raised the multi-colored device, pointed it down the corridor at a destination she herself would never reach, and pressed a single key. Then Donna's arm fell, her eyes closed. Sadly she would never know if her last living act had been successful or not.

But it was.

With a hum, a hexagonal portal slid open, pouring blue light out into the white-paneled corridor. And Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise_ stepped forth, clad in Sam Beckett's white fermi suit, and stared down at his great-grandfather's wife critically.

"It's all gone wrong, hasn't it."

It wasn't a question. But that was good, because Dr. Donna Elesee was no longer able to answer.

Because now she was really dead.

**To be continued...**


	16. Part XVI

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XV****I**** - Now to Forever**

_1999..._

Dr. Beckett crouched on the floor of Project Quantum Leap's Control Room, and reached a hand through the blood-dappled left cheek of his face-down best friend.

Sam pulled his fingers back, watched them phase back into existence. _I'm a hologram again, wow, this is a weird feeling knowing that everything you're seeing isn't really there. Wait--hologram again?_ he frowned thoughtfully, _Um, when was I a hologram before? That doesn't make any sense, I'm the only one who's ever used the Project's Accelerator to Leap...at least I think I am..._

Swallowing against the near constant torment of having a mind like a sieve, Sam looked up from the prostrate Al to the other side of the darkened chamber where two women stood nearly eclipsed behind a large tecnhicolor control console that looked just like

_Al's handlink! Wow! It's a huge version of the handlink! I completely forgot what the console looked like--what ANY of this looked like! And holy--that's Tina! It really is Tina!_ he looked around in wonder at the Control Room, _My god, I did it...I really did it..._

"I'm home." Sam breathed as it finally settled in.

But he wasn't really there, he was actually a century and a half in the future inside _Enterprise_'s biggest Cargo Bay, converted after a frantic twenty hours of brutal labor into a jury-rigged version of PQL's Imaging Chamber. To Sam, everything here was just an illusion, and happening far in the past, but at least he'd been able to set the clock back a bit and arrive just minutes after he'd first lost contact with Al. Sure, of course it would have been better for him to arrive _before _the woman with the gun had broken into the Imaging Chamber and severed their link, but that would have created one of those paradoxes Al was constantly fretting over, because Sam himself had been present during that event. So, this point in history would just have to do.

_Okay, gotta get to work, because there's no second chances here, our timelines are synched up and there's no going back. I'm the Observer now, and Al's the one I'm here to help, so_

"Al!" he shouted in the Rear Admiral's ear, "Al! Wake up, pal! Wake up!"

Sam knew Al couldn't be dead, elsewise he never could've achieved a lock-on. The two of them shared a mental link via mesons and neurons in their brains, which required them both to have positive neural activity. Meaning Al wasn't just still alive, he was still conscious, so

"AL!" Sam hollered, and at last the Rear Admiral's body jerked.

"...wha...where am...ohhhhh, my chest..." Calavicci tried to rise.

"No! Stay down!" Sam looked across the chamber at the dark-haired woman holding Tina at gun-point behind the control console. "Keep quiet or she'll hear you. Just whisper, Al, I can hear you fine."

"What--Sam?" hissed Al, "Sam!" his eyes went wide and with careful movements he rolled over onto his back and peered upwards through hazy eyes, "Uhhh, I feel like...like all five of my ex-wives just took turns...stomping on my torso..."

Sam stared down in amazement at the series of black-rimmed holes in the Rear Admiral's tangerine dress shirt. "She...she _sho__t_ you!"

"Yep...she shot me. Right in the chest three-"

"Four."

"Right. Four times."

"But...but you aren't even bleeding!"

Sam peered closer to Al's chest and in the dim light made out the glimmer of a silver garment beneath the perforated orange one. "What is that? It's too thin to be body armor."

"Actually, that's exactly what it is." Al coughed quietly through bruised ribs, "The latest thing from DOD labs, polykinetic absorption cloth, thinner then c-cotton and t-tougher then Kevlar. Heh, you aren't the only genius the good old US of A's got workin for h-her, Sam. Remember when that other Leapee got out a couple months back?"

"Um...no." Sam said absently as he watched the intruder lead Tina out of the Control Room and into the Quantum Accelerator at gun-point. He wanted to follow them, but his best bet was to stay back and help Al.

"Yeah, well, one guy did break out of the Waiting Room, Sam, and a meaner nozzle you never m-met." Al coughed again against the pain, "He shot me with my own gun and this tinfoil undershirt shrugged the slugs off better then Superman ever could. Twenty-three million dollars well spent, I say."

"Twenty-three million?! For_ one _bullet-proof vest?"

"I'm a Rear Admiral, Sam. The rank comes with a few perks, heh." Al at last looked past his friend and something occurred to him, "Wait...I can still see and hear you."

"Uh-huh."

"But...but I thought I was out of the Imaging Chamber..."

"You _are_. You're in the Project's Control Room."

"B-But... But you're here." and Al's eyes flew wide, "Holy--Sam! You're here! You're back! You did it, you Leaped-"

"No." Sam said sadly, "I didn't."

The Admiral was confused, "But then how-"

"I came clean to the people on _Enterprise_ and they helped me rig-up a version of the Imaging Chamber. I'm a hologram."

"What, again?" whispered Al, "Huh, talk about deja-vu." and coughed against the pain. Yeah, now the Admiral was thinking he might have some broken ribs, not just bruised.

Sam stared down at him with a mixture of concern and surprise, "So I _hav__e_ been a hologram before! I wasn't remembering it wrong, it actually _did_ happen. But--how is that even possible?"

Al hesitated for a moment, "...we got struck by lightning a while back and simo-Leaped. I arrived in 1945 and you ended up in the-"

"-Imaging Chamber!" Sam's eyes were wide with the sudden recollection, "That's right! And you were the Leaper and I was the Observer! And...and I came..." he looked away from Al and across the Control Room, "...came home. I did it. But..."

"But then you Leaped again." Al said quietly, the guilt consuming him for a moment. But there was no time for personal feelings, people were in danger, and not just any people, the lives of the Admiral's closest friends and colleagues were in direct peril. Al needed to do something, he needed to get _up_!

"Is she...is that crazy woman gone?"

"Yes, she's gone." Sam said quietly.

Al slowly sat up, wincing against his throbbing rib-cage, "She took Tina with her, didn't she."

"Yeah. She did. Want me to center on them?"

"No." Al climbed to his feet and limped to the control console, "Not like you could do anything. No, we need the MP's and we need Ziggy back online." he typed a command into the glossy board but it flashed a negative color, Al scowled, tried another route, got balked a second time.

"Dammit, I'm locked out."

"You? But you're in charge of the Project."

"Tell _that_ to your controls."

"Hey, this isn't my fault, Al. Just keep trying."

"I don't have _time_ to keep trying, Sam! That devil in a blue dress could come out at any moment!" but he kept on trying with the console.

"Who is she? Do you know?"

Al shook his head, "I have no idea. But she must have got in with that Senator from the Pentagon."

"Senator? Pentagon?"

The Admiral rolled his eyes, "Ziggy told them about you Leaping into the future. Seems somebody programmed him to call them just in case it ever happened."

"Who did that?" Sam shook his head.

"_You_ did."

"I did?"

"Yep. And without telling me, too. And after you swore to me you could only Leap into people from the past." Al got his fifth rebuke from the system and scowled, punched the console eliciting a squeal not unlike he often got from the handlink, "That's it! Ziggy isn't an option, so that means it's time to call in the big-guns. I'm getting the MP's down here to put an end to all this right now, Sam! Though they should already be here, or what's the point in having them?"

"Al..." Sam said in warning.

"What?"

And the novice Observer pointed past him to the exit corridor. Al turned around and

"Oh... Not good..."

Another Sam Beckett stood there, clad in a white fermi suit, and gripping a Marine-issue .45 which was pointed directly at Al's face. But it wasn't Sam, it was his aura, which meant the guy actually was

"Captain Archer..." frowned the Admiral.

"So you DO know my last name!" and Jonathan cocked the automatic.

Sam Beckett stared across the darkened chamber at...himself. But he knew who was behind the aura mask, it was

_My great-grandson. My god, the questions I could ask__ him__, the things he could tell me, like...like..._

_Like..._

_...Do I ever really, truly get home? Do I get to meet my daughter, let alone my grandchildren?_

Al had other, more pertinent, questions though, like "How did you get out? That gun--what did you do to the Corporals!"

"Nothing." replied Archer, "They were already dead when I took this off one of them. Guess you screwed-up, huh, Admiral. That's what you get for abducting people through time and space."

"I didn't abduct anybody!" Al took a step toward him, "Look, Captain, I know you're angry, but we need to get out of this room now, before she comes back!"

"Stop moving." glared Archer, "Neither of us are going anywhere. You need to return me to my ship, right now, or-"

"Or what?! Or you'll shoot me? Hah! Been there, done that. But if you do it, Archer, then you'll never get home!"

"Al, this isn't the way to do this." Sam warned, "Look, tell him you've been in contact with his First Officer."

"What? What'll that accomplish? He thinks I killed her or something equally foolish. He won't believe me, trust me, Sam."

Archer scowled, looked to the Rear Admiral's left but the man appeared to be talking to thin air. _He's insane, that has to be it. Explains __his choice in__ clothing, anyway..._

"Just tell him, Al! Tell him you've talked to T'Pol!"

"Sam-"

"Just do it!"

Archer had had enough, "Okay, I've had enough-"

"Topal!" blurted out Al.

Sam shook his head, "No, not Topal, it's T'Pol. You know, an apostrophe after the 'T'."

"Huh?" asked Captain Archer. Sam blinked at his descendant, _did he hear me? Is that even possible?_

But Archer hadn't, he was staring fixedly at Al, "What did you just say?"

"T'Pol! Your First Officer!"

Jonathan's jaw worked, "And I thought you didn't know anything about her."

"I've sort of been in contact with her, and..." Al glanced to the side again for a moment, then back, "...and she said to tell you that Porthos is fine. She fed him a few hours ago." Al blinked, "Fed him? Who the heck is Porthos?"

The Captain's aim wavered, "Porthos is...is my beagle."

"A dog? You have a _dog _on your space craft?" then he looked to the side again, "What? The truth? Sam, that's not a good idea."

"Sam?" Archer scowled, "Who is Sam? Are you talking to somebody over a comlink?"

Al appeared to ignore him, kept on arguing with his unseen companion, "That's not a good idea! ...Yes, I know he's not from the past so it can't contaminate the timeline, but--whatever, fine!"

"Fine?" Jonathan was really getting confused. And annoyed. "Nothing about this is fine-"

"Dr. Sam Beckett." blurted out the Admiral.

The starship Captain's eyes narrowed, "How--How do you know that name?"

"Ah-hah! He's your great-grandfather isn't he?"

"...Yes, that was his name. But what does _he _have to do with any of this?"

"He has EVERYTHING to do with all of this! He's a time-traveler and he swapped places with you."

"What!"

Al nodded, "It's the truth. You were pulled back here to 1999 while he took your place in 2155. And I'm talking to him right now. Only you can't see him."

"Can't...see...him..." Archer cocked his head, "You know how all this sounds, right?"

"Do you have a BETTER explanation?"

Archer shrugged, "So you're saying that the father of my grandmother Samantha-Josephine switched places with me in time?"

"Yes!" nodded the Rear Admiral emphatically, "He did!"

"He did?" said a new voice, and all three men turned to bear on the open elevator. And from it stepped

"Oh..." breathed Sam.

"...my god..." gasped Jonathan.

The lab-coated brunette had a very different reaction, "Admiral--Dr. Beckett is my...is my _father_?!"

"A family reunion, how touching." said another voice, and everyone looked in the direction of the Accelerator. A fermi-clad Amri Carr raised her Glock, "How sad I must now bring it to a close." and she fired.

At Sammy-Jo...

**To be continued...**


	17. Part XVII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XV****I****I - Prisoner of the Gutter**

_At the end of the 20th Centur__y__..._

Unfortunately, in the Control Room of Project Quantum Leap, the only thing currently going smoothly was a 9mm slug.

It left the barrel of the lady assassin's stolen Glock in a flare of orange flame and grey smoke and soared across the chamber in a near-perfect upward vector toward the unprotected throat of PQL junior Programmer Samantha-Josephine Fuller, spinning counter-clockwise in the air as it flew.

As Amri Carr had been raising her weapon three things happened at once:

Tina, realizing that the insane woman was about to murder another one of her friends, threw out an elbow for the killer's stomach.

Jonathan Archer, instantly recognizing the youthful face of his grandmother from treasured family photo's, without hesitation dived for her.

So did Al.

And Sam Beckett stepped into the path of the bullet, also without hesitation.

Now, that actually was four things. But since Sam wasn't actually there it really didn't count. Except to him.

But sometimes--_sometimes_--that's all that really matters.

Here's how it played out:

"NO!" Tina rammed her elbow into Amri's stomach, but the impact knocked_ her _back and did nothing whatsoever to the cruel invader, so solid was the woman's physique. In fact, Tina's own arm ended up with a hairline fracture instead.

The bullet flashed through the holographically-projected chest of Sam Beckett, burst out his back without slowing, zinged past the left cheek of the rushing Admiral Calavicci and homed in on Sammy-Jo's throat, but Jonathan Archer tackled her, knocking her out of the path of the bullet which

Struck Gooshie instead.

Because he had been standing behind Fuller in the elevator.

As Archer and his ancestor crashed to the floor, Al clambered to a shocked halt and stared slack-jawed at the mustached Programmer. "Gooshie?"

"A-Admiral?" the man raised a shaking hand from his upper chest, stared at the crimson splash of blood coating it.

"GOOSHIE!"

His friend's eyes rolled up and he collapsed. Al's face twisted and his eyes alighted on the .45 auto Captain Archer had taken off one of the MPs, he ducked and came up with it, spun around and pointed it for Carr, "YOU!"

"Too _slow_." the woman grinned and she pulled her own trigger again.

But the Glock clicked empty.

"Too _stupid_!" snarled Al and--but the woman caught Tina by the shoulders and pulled her before her as a human shield.

"I wouldn't, Admiral!" and Amri gripped the blonde tightly by the neck, "I'm much stronger then I look, trust me. I can crush her windpipe with barely a flex of my fingers!"

"Let her go!"

"No. And as well..." Carr dug the pocket of her slacks and came up with a blinking remote control.

"What's that?"

"A remote trigger for the charge which is now firmly-attached to the Quantum Accelerator's inner wall. If I die, then EVERYBODY for twenty _miles_ dies, Admiral, not just this bleached bimbo."

Tina's eyes narrowed, "Bleached?!" but Amri increased pressure on her throat and the technician clammed up.

"Now, Admiral...toss the pistol."

"All right." Al nodded slowly and he lowered the automatic.

Sam stared at the woman's detonator. _Thermonuclear explosion..._

"Al!" he hissed, "That's why I'm here!"

"Huh?" whispered the Admiral as he threw the gun away, "Why _you're_ here? What do you mean?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet? I Leaped into 2155 not to change _their_ future, but to alter_ your _past. In fact all of New Mexico's! This woman doesn't know it, but setting off that charge in the Accelerator will actually destroy a good portion of the state, not just twenty miles of desert."

"Huh?!" Al asked again, still beyond confused, but Sam was already moving, he jogged to the wall on Tina's left and phased through it into the Accelerator.

Amri let go of Tina's throat and pushed her roughly forward, "Finish the programming." then she looked to the rest of the room's occupants, "Everybody stay where they are! Don't even _think_ about trying to stop me. Just let the girl do her job and you all get to live."

"Tell that to Gooshie..." Sammy-Jo said through streaming eyes as she and Captain Archer crouched on either side of the Programmer in the elevator.

Jonathan pulled the man's shirt open and stared down at the wound, "He's not dead yet. The bullet hit more in his shoulder then his chest. But still..."

He tore the sleave off of his fermi suit and balled it up, pressed it down on the gaping wound. Gooshie moaned and his eyelids fluttered. "Here! Put pressure on this." the woman nodded and did so. Jonathan checked the man's pulse then spared her a glance.

"It really is you."

"It is?" Sammy-Jo didn't understand, "And who am I?"

"My great-grandmother."

"Huh? I don't-" then her eyes flew wide, "Oh my god, you're _him_! That's right! Sorry, but you have Dr. Beckett's aura."

"So I noticed. But he looks very much like me. As do you." he smiled, "This is amazing!"

"But how can I be--how can you be..." Sammy-Jo blushed, "I don't even _have _a kid."

"Not yet."

She blinked, "Yet... Wait, what's your last name?"

"Um...I don't know if that's a good idea-"

"Is it Archer?" she read his expression, "It IS! Holy--wait til I tell Stephen!" then she frowned, "Wait, no, I can't. Heck, I shouldn't even know this." and she scowled, "He better marry me, let me tell ya."

"Oh, don't worry about that."

"Really?" she grinned widely, "Where did we honeymoon? Was it a big wedding?"

"Um...I don't know. For me that was a century and a half ago."

"A century and a _half_? Jeez, what, did I have your grandpa when I was like fifty?" she shuddered, "Now there's a scary thought."

"Um, actually, I think you were thir--nevermind. No sense mucking up history with too many future details."

She gaped at him overtop the prostrate Gooshie, "Too many future details? Little late for that, dontcha think?"

"Good point." replied Archer, then he looked back into the Control Room.

Tina was just finishing up her work at the console, while Al stood off to the side, glaring the ruddy-skinned assassin down. "Is this all worth it? All these lives?"

"Is _what_ worth it?" asked Amri in a bored tone.

He looked to the heap of corpses on the other side of the room, "All the people you've killed. My friends and the Senator. And all the other lives you've probably destroyed to get to this point. I'm sure there's been others."

"Oh, you're correct Admiral. But their lives, and yours, are meaningless. You are but inferior pawns on my father's chessboard."

"Your father? And who exactly is your father? And _you_, for that matter."

"It is of no consequence to one such as you."

"Such as me..." Al snorted, "Wow, you really have got an ego the size of Texas, now don't you, honey. So is _that_ what all this craziness is about? Your Daddy neglected you and now you're gonna go back in time and try and make him love you?" he chuckled darkly, "You really have no idea what Leaping is all about, do you? It's not going to work, babe, you're going to end up stranded in the past with barely any memory, and nobody is going to show up through a glowing doorway to help you out, nope, you'll be all alone."

But the woman grinned, "That's where you're wrong, Admiral. I know all about your so-called 'swiss-cheese' effect. I've studied it thoroughly, and have found a way to counteract it." she dug in her pocket and came out with a mostly-empty syringe, tossed it onto the floor between them where the blob of straw-colored liquid inside it sloshed lazily back-and-forth.

"What's that?"

"A neural peptide reinforcer. It will maintain all my memory. No, my mission will succeed, though you cannot imagine what it is."

"You still haven't told me your name."

"And I'm not going to."

"It's Amritha Carr. It was on an ID tag amongst her discarded clothing." Sam said as he phased back through the wall and looked the woman up and down. He dug in the pocket of his purple _Enterprise_ uniform and came up his hand scanner, "Just give me a second here..." and he began to type fast. But before the answer to his inquiry could arrive, Tina spoke up.

"Okay..." the blonde said at last, "I think... Yeah, I'm done."

Al shot her a look, then quickly switched his glance away from her. _It should have been child's play for her to program a Leap. Bless her naughty heart, she's been stalling..._

"Carr!" he said loudly, "Amritha Carr."

Amri looked at him sharply, "How did you know that?"

"Does it matter?"

She stroked the detonator's only key, "Yes. It does."

"It's not her real name." Sam busied over his scanner.

"It's not?"

"Nope. Databasing is much more detailed in the 22nd Century, and I've discovered several errors in her declassified Pentagon file. Justa sec..." he looked up, "Hoshi? I need a cross-correlation on datafile 47-Delta."

"Hoshi?" asked Al.

"Hoshi?" Archer looked up from Gooshie.

"Hoshi?" scowled Carr. She looked back-and-forth between them, "That's a woman's name. Are you talking to somebody, Admiral?"

Al grinned slyly, "Now how the heck could I be possibly be doing that? This room is heavily shielded, only landlines work down here."

"Then who is Hoshi?"

"An, um, old girlfriend of mine. I got tons of'em." Tina scowled at him from behind her console. "Heh, well, I mean, I've had one or two." then he looked back to Amri, "But your name, it's not real."

"What makes you think that?"

"All kinds of reasons. Like... Like..." he glanced sidelong at Sam.

Who tapped a key on his scanner, then grinned, "Thanks, Hoshi!" he looked to Al, "Hah, I was right! Her last name IS fake, but we're having trouble tracing her real one through a century and a half of back records!"

Amritha stared at the Rear Admiral narrowly, jaw working. "You ARE talking to somebody! That's it!" and she waved the detonator, "I'm leaving now!" she looked to Tina, "No more stalling! Boot-up your AI and prepare to fire the Accelerator!"

"But-"

"Do it NOW!"

"No!" shouted Archer and he dashed forward and grabbed up the automatic, "Don't do it! She can't be allowed to leave!"

"Why?" asked Al.

"Because--I know who she is!"

"Good for you." and Amritha reached behind her back and came up with the _other_ MP Corporal's automatic pistol, pointed it at Tina, "Do it! Bring the computer online! Or you're dead!"

"I--I...Al?" Tina looked to the Admiral.

He scowled, "Do it."

"What?!" said Sam as Tina entered the code-combination Amritha had told her and Ziggy's compu-sphere came alive.

"No!" and Archer cocked the automatic. But Al stepped in front of him.

"Put it down!"

"But-"

"Put it down, Captain!" snarled the Admiral, "I'm in charge here!"

But it became a non-issue as Amritha stepped back into the Accelerator and sealed the door.

"_You have sixty seconds to Leap me or I'm blowing the charge!_" she shouted over the intercom.

"I don't care if she does!" growled Jonathan Archer, and he swung the pistol to bear on Tina, "Don't do it, ma'am, or...or I'll be forced to shoot you myself!"

**To be continued...**


	18. Part XVIII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XV****I****II - Gone are My Tears**

_Betwixt and between..._

Before this:

_"What's that?" demanded Al as his eyes locked on the silver device Amritha was holding up like a child's first prize in a talent show._

_She sneered in triumph, "A remote trigger for the charge which is now firmly-attached to the Quantum Accelerator's inner wall. If I die, then EVERYBODY for twenty MILES __dies, Admiral..."_

Before this:

_"You ARE talking to somebody!" Amritha snarled at the Rear Admiral, "That's it!"_

_The half-megaton charge's trigger waggled dangerously between her white-knuckled fingers, "I'm leaving now! No more stalling! Boot-up your AI and prepare to fire the Accelerator!"_

And before this:

_Amritha stepped back into the Accelerator and sealed the door._

_"_You have sixty seconds to Leap me or I'm blowing the charge!_" she shouted over the intercom._

_"I don't care if she does!" growled Jonathan Archer, and he swung the pistol to bear on Tina, "Don't do it, ma'am, or...or I'll be forced to shoot you myself!"_

There was..._this_:

"_Engineering to Bridge!_"

Chief Engineer Charles Tucker's voice rang-out over A Deck of the starship _Enterprise _a century and a half in the future, and Commander T'Pol looked up from peering down over Ensign Sato's shoulder.

"Go ahead." she said.

"_Uh, how much longer is this reverse time-capsule gonna take?_"

"I do not understand your meaning." said the Vulcan.

Beside her, Hoshi chuckled, "Commander Tucker means how much longer is Dr. Beckett going to be in the Imaging Chamber."

"Oh." T'Pol drummed fingers on her abdomen, "Well then, Chief, why not just say that? Really, Trip, these constant references to obscure human culture only serve to confuse and delay the smooth operation of this vessel."

"_Oh, well, sorry. I'll just load myself into a photon tube and be done with it, how's that?_"

"If it would give my sensitive ears a moment's peace, then I concur with your version of self-flagellation."

"_Heh, right... Okay, T'Pol, you gonna answer my question now, or just go on browbeat'in me all day?_"

"I would think that queerie would be self-answering."

"_Huh?_"

"What she means," translated Sato, "is that we have no idea and it would be best not to interfere with Dr. Beckett."

"_Yeah, whatever. But that blasted Imaging technology, it's drain'in the heck outa our power reserves. Seriously, with what that glorified CB radio is using every second you could power half of New York City for a week!_"

"Then why not power the Imaging Chamber off of the Warp Engine's output?" suggested T'Pol.

"_I'd luv ta, Commander, but you let Grampy Archer up there hook the core into the transporter, and now I can't tap into any of it's lines without ruining all his modifications._"

"Ah... Well then, you are just going to have to get creative, Commander."

"_Creative? Whaddaya mean, creative? Energy don't grow on trees and it's all my people can do down here to keep half the Primaries from overloading every two minutes. Plus-wait..._"

"Commander?" T'Pol cocked an eyebrow.

"_.__..um, there's something I need to check__ on__._" and Trip broke the channel.

The First Officer and Sato shared a glance, then looked back down to the Communications terminal. "How much longer do you think the Doctor will be?" the First Officer inquired in a neutral tone, so as to not put her rising concerns on display for the entire Bridge to pick up on.

"You got me there, Commander." frowned Hoshi, "Since I managed to lock on to Admiral Calavicci's neurons and mesons, Dr. Beckett hasn't requested any further information from me. So it just might be awhile."

T'Pol's eyes narrowed, but she turned away from the Ensign's Station without comment and headed back to the center seat. She sat and steepled her long sleek fingers, pressed them to her elfin chin.

_Everything had better be going smoothly back there in the year 1999, or elsewise I may just be forced to pull the plug prematurely on our exalted guest's science experiment, then find a way to proceed on my OWN course to recover Captain Archer._

_Beckett has ten more minutes, and then...and then time's up..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Down in Engineering..._

"There they go again!"

The assistant Chief Engineer looked up from his console as the warning bars he was in charge of knifed past green and into the red zone for the fourth time in ten minutes. "Chief? I know what Commander T'Pol said, but I really think we need to put a halt to this before we ionize one of the nacelles. Because if we do then it will take us at least a week to depolarize all the plasma injectors."

"Tell me somethin I _don't_ know, Lieutenant." muttered Tucker as he stalked past the burly Lieutenant, a dynoscanner gripped tightly in his right hand. "That's exactly what I'm concerned about too. But we have our orders, so just keep everything online until the First Officer tells ya different."

Then he ducked into Horizontal Tube J-12 and vanished into the bowels of the ship's infrastructure.

"Wha-sir?" gaped Lt. Mendez, "You're leaving? But-"

But Trip was gone...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Back up on the Bridge..._

"Getting something!" Ensign Sato announced from her seat behind Communications.

"What?" T'Pol leaned forward in the center seat, "Is it Dr. Beckett?"

"Yes!" nodded Hoshi in excitement, "He's requesting information on a woman: Amritha Carr."

"And who exactly is she?"

Sato looked up sharply, "Sam says she's the one who planted the nuclear charge at the Project! And that she's right there now, holding everybody hostage. She's going to Leap, just like he does!"

Commander T'Pol nodded then swiveled toward the Ensign manning her Science Station, "Get everything you can from the Library Computer on an Amritha Carr."

"Right!" his hands blurred across the keypads, "Let's see...okay, yes! Carr was an executive assistant to a Todd Andrew Keller in the year 1999."

"And this Keller was.."

"A United States Senator out of Georgia. And he was the President's Pentagon Advisor. Says here Carr was killed along with the Senator during an inspection of a Military base in New Mexico."

"New Mexico!" repeated Hoshi, her almond eyes spreading even wider.

"Let me hazard a guess," said T'Pol, "and say that the date of their deaths was-"

"-December 24th, 1999." the Ensign nodded, "Yes, she was killed in the Stallions Gate Incident. But I do not believe Carr was her real last name. I'm detecting several biographical discrepancies."

"Send Dr. Beckett everything we have on her." T'Pol stood and headed for the turbolift, "Call Lt. Reed up to take the Conn, I'm going down there."

"Down there?" blinked Sato, "Down where?"

"To the Imaging Chamber. Something about all this is starting to bother me."

"_Startin__g_ to?"

T'Pol pursed her lips but made no reply to Hoshi's obvious concerns. Then the lift slid shut and she was gone...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Trip reached the end of the last tube and crawled free, swung out and landed on a utility ladder. While it wasn't a long ascent it still wasn't short, and twenty seconds later he poked his head up into a boxy chamber located at nearly the exact center of the accessible part of _Enterprise_'s starboard nacelle. The small chamber was barely over a meter high and wide, not that Tucker cared. Without hesitation he climbed inside and rose up to a crouch with his boots on either side of the floor's exit ring.

As his blond crewcut brushed against the very low ceiling he tugged the dynoscanner out and applied it to the open casing before him. The rods running through the Plasma Injection System pulsed rapidly, as they fired in varying sequence. It took about ten seconds then his meter flashed done and he pulled it free, read it's data.

And scowled darkly.

"I thought so! Well jeez, if that just don't beat all..."

_Forget about the Imaging Chamber, the stresses it's causing the engines are nothing compared to what's going to happen if Beckett actually tries to Leap back to his precious Project. Damn, I gotta tell T'Pol right away! _and he reached down for the first lung of the ladder and-and something slammed into the exterior of the nacelle with terrific force!

Trip was thrown to the side, whacked his head on a protruding housing, blood sprayed from his temple, he keeled over and

fell-free into the open shaft!

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

"Sato!" the Ensign manning the record search on Amritha Carr called out sharply, "You-You need to see this!"

"Not now!" Hoshi looked to Security, "What just hit us?"

"We were just fired upon!" replied the pale-faced Ensign Aduko, "They nailed our starboard nacelle before I could polarize the hull!"

"Fired upon?" gaped Sato, "By what?"

"By this!" Aduko tossed an aft image up to the viewscreen and all faces on the Bridge swung to bear on

A Klingon Raptor!

"Oh, damn..." moaned Mayweather, then he threw _Enterprise_ forward, gunning them up to half impulse in less then a second.

"What are you doing?" shouted Sato.

"What does it look like? I'm evading!" Travis banked them hard to starboard and a disruptor beam flashed past their port engine by less then ten meters.

"B-But you can't-"

"I can't what, Sato? Can't keep us from getting blown up? If we stay still then we're dead!" and he nosed them down and increased impulse to the max.

"But Dr. Beckett! You might sever his connection with the past!"

"It's gonna be _permanently _severed if the ship blows up! Take the Conn."

"Huh?" gawked Hoshi, "But the Commander-"

"-went below, and Reed isn't here yet. So it's _your _show, Sato!" and gritting his teeth Mayweather sent them hurtling into a new set of evasive maneuvers.

"Oh...I don't know-"

"Do it! I can't, I'm flying!"

She looked to Security, but "I can't! I've got the Weapons! Do as he says, Sato!"

Hoshi stood on the quivering deck and eyed the empty center seat for a moment, then she swallowed hard and

A photon torpedo struck the front of the saucer section! The _Enterprise _was blasted to the side and went into a spin, trailing charred bits of hull and spraying atmosphere like white blood!

Then a _second _Raptor rose up out of it's stalking loop and moved to close...

**To be continued...**


	19. Part XIX

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part X****IX**** - Stare and Growl**

_Back in '99..._

Inside the PQL Control Room the situation was rapidly degrading into utter chaos.

"Put it down!" snapped the Rear Admiral at the gun-totting Captain Archer, "I'm in charge here!" but then the woman named Amritha moved back into the Accelerator and sealed it's hexagonal portal shut.

Her cold voice echoed over the Control Room intercom, "_Y__ou have sixty seconds to Leap me or I'm blowing the charge!_"

Archer's own tone was adamant though, "I don't care if she does!" and he brought the .45 auto around and took aim for the shapely blonde in the low-cut red cocktail dress, "Don't do it, ma'am, or...or I'll be forced to shoot you myself!"

"Did you just call me _ma'am_?!" glowered Tina from behind the control console. She looked to Al, "I don't care if he _does_ have Dr. Beckett's face! Punch his lights out, Al!"

"Not now, Tina!" and Al threw out a hand at Archer, "You! Let go of that trigger!"

"But-"

"DO what I say!" then the Admiral looked to the hologram of Sam, "And_ you_, if you're really acting the part of the Observer and I'm the one manning the plate this time, then WHAT in blazes am I here to prevent? Is it just that psycho woman's Leap? Or..."

"Um..."

"SAM!"

"_Admiral,_" spoke up Ziggy, "_I believe I know for sure why Dr. Beckett switched places with Captain Jonathan Archer in the year 2155._"

"For sure, huh..." Al clawed at his face, unable to decide if it was a good or bad thing that the parallel hybrid computer was once again adding her two and a half cents to the conversation.

_I have GOT to take a vacation. Another straight year of this and they'll be fitting me for a straightjacket. Okay..._

"So...Ziggy... Sam is _not_ on the _Enterprise_ so that he can Leap back here?"

"Wha--who's on my ship?" Archer's eyes flashed, "One of your people is on my ship?"

"_Yes__, Captain Archer__. Your great-grandfather._" and with a hum Ziggy flooded the chamber with harmless K-particles and Sam Beckett shimmered into being for all to see. As well, the false aura faded from around Archer, revealing his true image.

Jonathan's aim with the .45 wavered at the site of...himself? Wait, the man looked at least five to ten years younger then him, and his wavy hair had a white streak--the man in the mirror!

_Great-grandfather? Wait--Sam?_

"Sam Beckett?"

"Yeah." his ancestor smiled, "Nice to meet you."

And Archer lowered the gun.

"Thank-god..." breathed Al in relief.

"Ma'am?!" snapped Tina.

"Not now!"

"Well, settle his hash, Al, or I'll do it!"

"Ziggy!" demanded Al, "What's the deal? All the cards on the table! NOW! Or so help me I'll get a fire axe and-"

"_According to future records, Admiral, at 2:23am on December 24th, 1999, nearly two-thirds of New Mexico was destroyed in a thermonuclear explosion. And ground-zero was here, at Stallions Gate._"

"What?!" Al staggered around and stared Sam full in the face, "You knew this! You KNEW?!"

"I, um, was going to, uh, tell you-"

"But--But that's right now!" squealed Tina, "I mean, the time, it's 2:17!" she reached for the controls and hastily started ramping up the Synchotron.

Captain Archer blinked, "This is Stallions Gate? Just before the explosion?"

Sam nodded, "Yes-"

There was a crackle over the intercom, "_Time's up!_" growled Amritha, "_Either Leap me RIGHT NOW or_-"

And Al charged the control console and slammed his palm down on the Activation pad, "Firing!"

Blue lightning crackled across the room and the floor shook wildly! Sam's hologram shimmered and phased in and out, Al and Tina grasped hands across the console, in the elevator Sammy-Jo clung to the comatose Gooshie and fought not to scream, then

Then...

...then it was over, and Amritha was gone. She had Leaped...

"No!" shouted Archer, "_No_..." then he whirled on Al, his face a terror, "Where did she go? WHERE! Where the hell did you send her?"

But the Admiral ignored him. He let go of Tina and bolted for the Quantum Accelerator. "Sam!"

"On it!" and the holographic Beckett turned and dashed through the wall.

"Answer me!" Archer wasn't giving up, not by a long-shot, "Where did you send her?"

Tina glanced down at the control console, then back up, "She is-"

"Tina!" snapped Al, "Help Sammy-Jo get Gooshie to the Clinic. And_ ixnay_ on telling the Leapee future data!" The blonde nodded and headed for the elevator which a moment later slid shut.

"Past data!" Archer shot back at the Admiral in correction, "I'm the one from the future, around here."

"Not in the case of an alternate timeline!" snapped Al.

"_What _alternate timeline?"

"The one I mean to create when I stop that bomb from atomizing half the state!"

"Oh..." frowned the Captain thoughtfully.

Al continued to fight with the door's controls, which were jammed.

_Of course Carr frigged the controls! Bet she dialed up the detonation time too!_

"Al!" Sam shot out of the wall, eyes wide, "The charge is set to go off in less then ninety seconds!"

"Ziggy!" shouted Al, "Open this damn door!"

"_I am attempting to, Admiral, but the inner locking mechanism has been scrambled, most likely due to Miss Carr utilizing a_-"

"I don't care WHAT she used! Just FIX it!"

"_One moment please._"

"No moments! No please! Do it now! Or we're all-" the door buzzed then slid open, spilling white steam out of the inner chamber. Al grinned and sprang forward--a shot rang out!

He slammed to a halt and gaped at the slug that had buried itself in the wall two inches from the Accelerator's doorframe, then spun back around and gaped at Captain Archer who was leveling his automatic on him.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing!" roared the Admiral.

"I'm sorry," Archer said, "but I can't let you disarm that bomb."

"Are you _nuts_?! Half the state is about to go up, and YOU with it!"

"Thirty-nine seconds left, Al!" advised Sam.

"It--It doesn't matter." Archer said reluctantly, "This Incident is an integral part of my past, and I cannot stand-by and allow you to change it. No matter _what_ the consequences to me personally."

Al opened his mouth to respond, but Sam phased through him and stared his descendant down, "You sure about that? Because don't forget, your great-grandmother, my daughter, is right over there. And if you die, so does she. And that means you will NEVER have existed, meaning everything you accomplished on that _Enterprise_ of yours won't happen. And from what little I've seen of your ship's logs, that will be quite a blow."

"I-I..." Archer was torn.

"The Xindi?" Sam pushed on, "The Andorians? The Vulcans?"

"I'm not that important." Jonathan tried weakly, "Somebody--Somebody else will take my place."

"And what if they don't? What if you're wrong? What if you're the one who makes a difference, and only you?" Sam glanced at his hand scanner, "Twelve seconds to oblivion, Captain."

"I...I don't know..."

"I do." said Sam solemnly, "Al. Go." and the Admiral nodded and darted into the Accelerator.

Archer's hold on the pistol wavered, "But--But what about the future? What's going to happen when New Mexico _doesn't_ blow up?"

Sam shrugged, "Should be fun finding out. I'm in the future, so I'll let you know. Anyway, fixing the past is Project Quantum Leap's specialty." Then he looked back down at the scanner again, grinned, "Well, guess what? The deadline's past and we're not dead."

The Admiral stepped from the chamber, holding the darkened device, "Okay, that was close. Hah, Sean Connery in _Goldfinger_ ain't got _nuthin_ on Al Calavicci when it comes to diffusing nuclear weapons."

"_Actually, Admiral_-"

"Ziggy, would you please just_ shut_ the f-" KA-CLANG!

All heads swung round to bear on the corridor leading out of the Control Room. Al and Sam shared a confused look.

"That...that sounded like it was coming from the Waiting Room." scowled the Admiral.

WHAM! CLANG!

Sam frowned, "That was fast. I thought you always told me that the person who Leaps in is very disorientated and passive, at least for the first little while."

"Usually." nodded Al, "At least, most of the time they are." and the image of Leon Stiles ghosted behind his eyes for a moment. "Um..._most_ of the time."

"How strong's that door?" inquired Captain Archer darkly.

Al chuckled, "Strong! Nothing to worry about. They can pound all year if they like, heh, nothing human is _ever_ getting through-" _CRUNCH! Ping-ping-ping-wobble!_

Sam and Al both jerked as if stung.

"Um...that _really_ sounded like a piece of the WR door breaking loose and bouncing off down the floor." Sam's voice was starting to gain a nervous edge.

Something occurred to Al and he looked to Archer, "Wait! Back before Carr Leaped, you said you knew who she was."

"Yes," nodded the Captain, "I did. And I do. I know all about her. I know about them _all_." he scowled, "You're a Rear Admiral, so how come you don't?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"This is 1999, isn't it?"

"Yeah? So?"

Another smashing noise sounded and Archer scowled, raised the pistol again and took off at a run, "No time to talk, I'm still not finished cleaning up your mess!"

"But--wait!" but Archer ignored him. Al scowled, then turned back to Sam, "Okay, you're in the future, so what's Captain Courageous babbling on about?"

"I have no idea. Hoshi still hasn't found out who Carr really is."

"Yeah, but Archer knows and his brain is swiss-cheesed! What's this Yoshi's excuse?"

"Hoshi. And I have...wait." and he raised the hand scanner, typed at it's tiny keypad, "Something's coming through. Okay, let's see, Amritha Carr. First name is correct, but the second name is actually...wait, no, make that _third_ name."

"Third name?" frowned Al.

"Yeah, Carr is her third name."

"What, like it's her surname and you know her middle name?"

"Um..." Sam sifted through the weighty data, "...no. That's not what it is. Carr is her third name, but wait, it's not Carr, that's a homo...homo..."

"Homo?"

"Homo..." Sam thumped the scanner, "...phone. Homophone! Yes, it's a homophone! She used a homophone of her real third name, and discarded the middle part to help hide her identity."

"Homophone?" Al was still lost, "What the heck is a-"

"_Homophone__s,_" Ziggy's compu-sphere pulsed aqua "_are words that have the same sound but different meanings. And may or may not have different spellings. Like slay and sleigh. Or skate or skate._"

"Skate or...skate? What--so her name is still Carr?"

"Yes!" said Sam, "Same sound, but spelled differently. Actually, her real name is Kaur. Spelled K-A-U-R."

"Huh?"

"It's a Sikh name. Wait--so's Amritha!"

Al shrugged, "What, so she's East Indian? I could have told you that. I still don't see the point-"

Ziggy broke in, "_Actually, Miss Kaur would be North Indian. North Indian Sikh females are traditionally given the surname Kaur. The 10th Sikh Guru initiated the practice in 1699 AD, primarily to end the practice of caste identification and social stratification prevalent in Hindu society. Thus, Sikh names were freed from caste identification with all __North Indian __women having the third name Kaur, while all__ North Indian__ men took the the third name of_-"

"Son of a--oh, my god..." gasped Al and he literally swayed in place!

Sam gaped at him, "Al? What's wrong-" but then there was a crackle of static and Beckett's hologram ceased to be!

The Admiral didn't even seem to notice, or even care, he just staggered to the control console, his face white as a sheet, "Z-Ziggy! Initiate a full lock-down! Seal every door, every elevator! And prepare to initiate the complex's self-destruct system on my mark!"

"_Admiral_-"

"ZIGGY! For once in your DAMMED existence, just shut-up and DO as you're TOLD!"

"_...Understood._" there was pause, then "_Full lock-down initiated. All doors and lifts have been sealed, passage to the surface has been blocked. Self-destruct is now at your verbal discretion._"

"Good! When I give the go-ahead, prepare-" a huge crash sounded down the corridor to the Waiting Room and then several shots rang out! Then came the sound of running feet, and then...

...silence...

Al braced himself for the worst.

And...the _worst_ came...

The bloody body of Jonathan Archer came hurtling into the Control Room, struck the floor and rolled to a bruised heap up against the control console! Al considered seeing to him, then realized there was no point, as Amritha Kaur stepped round the corner, her eyes furious, her teeth grit.

Only it wasn't Amritha, it was the person she had Leaped into.

_It's not a person! _Al's near-crazed mind blurted into his frontal lobe, _Not even CLOSE!_

"Ziggy! The Self-destruct! Set it for three-" Amritha blurred forward _way _faster then any human EVER should have been able to and CAUGHT the Rear Admiral by the throat, cutting his sentence off abruptly, and HAULED him bodily into the air!

And the K-particles Ziggy had released into the chamber danced across the surface of their body, dispelling the residue of the Amritha Kaur aura, and leaving behind the new arrival's _true_ persona!

The persona of Khan Noonien Singh...

**To be continued...**


	20. Part XX

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XX - Beyond This Lifetim**e

_On the cusp of existence..._

"Son of a-oh, my _god_..." gasped Al and he literally swayed in place!

Sam gaped at him, "Al? What's wrong-" but then there was a crackle of static and the hologram ceased to be!

The hologram here being the PQL Control Room.

Dr. Beckett looked about in surprise and watched the make-shift holographic projectors he and half the _Enterprise_ Engineering team had spent twenty hours hobbling together finish fizzling out. At first Sam was angry, but that faded when he remembered how tenuous a connection it was, that he had created in the first place.

_It's amazing I was able to interface with Al in 1999 as long as I even DID,_ he frowned decidedly, _especially considering this technology was originally designed with a much different purpose, unlike the custom-configured Chamber back at the Project. The only way we were able to bridge the gap here was because _Enterprise _is composed of innovations a century and a half more advanced then most of what you'll find back in the complex. But, what has broken can be fixed, so...what's monkeying up the gears?_

Sam raised his hand scanner and dialed up it's diagnosis mode, panned it at the wall of intermixed machinery covering most of the rear bulkhead and half the ceiling. But almost immediately he received an all-clear signal and Sam frowned, ran the check again and..._the IC is fully functional, no errors detected, nothing is wrong. Um, so, what's the problem?_

In the distance there came an explosion and the deck rattled furiously as if from an impact, nearly knocking him off his feet! Sam staggered backwards, flipped around and caught onto the doorframe just to stay vertical, nearly dropping his scanner in the process. The huge roar was past now and in it's place he could hear alarms and screaming voices.

"What the heck is going on out there?" he hit the door release and dashed across the threshold-and _slammed_ into Commander T'Pol who appeared to have been on the way to see him!

They went down in a tangle of limbs, her on top, and Sam gagged in pain as his back met the hard and unyielding deck plates.

"Uhhh! C-Commander! You seem to w-weigh a lot more then you appear."

"Still quite the charmer, aren't you, Doctor." T'Pol frowned then detaching her limbs from him she climbed to her feet and rubbed at her throbbing forehead which had deflected off of Beckett's shoulder.

Sam allowed her to help him up and brushing the hair from his eyes he blinked in the suddenly darkened corridor, "Um, is it the Rapture? Because I haven't a thing to wear..."

"No. It is not the Rapture, whatever that is. I believe we are under attack."

"Attack? From who?"

"Unknown. My next destination is the Bridge, if you'd care to join me and find out."

"Ummm...I don't think we'll need to go to the Bridge to find out who's attacking us."

"Why not?" she asked, and Sam pointed down the corridor, T'Pol turned and

"_petaQ_!" roared the first of what appeared to be many furious Klingons barreling down the passage toward them.

"Wonderful..." said T'Pol, and then the disruptor blasts started flying!

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

"We've been boarded!" shouted Ensign Aduko as the bulkheads shook again and a console overloaded behind the Security Officer's Station.

"Wha-how?" Sato called back over her shoulder as she clung to the center seat's armrests and watched one of the two Raptors soar over them, weapons blazing.

"I-I think they used transporters!"

"What? While were moving?" Travis sounded dubious as he sent them into a banking roll.

"It's the only explanation."

"How many?" demanded Hoshi.

"Uh...twenty-three, spread across four decks! Including D Deck!"

"But-But that's where the Imaging Chamber is!"

"I know, Captain." replied Aduko, "But I'm reading IC power has been redirected to the hull plating and Impulse, so perhaps Dr. Beckett is no longer there."

"Commander T'Pol too! She went down there to consult with him, remember?"

"Yes, Captain, I remember."

_Ohmigod,_ blinked Hoshi, _that's the third time I've been called Captain! They think I'm Captain? Sure, I'm the Senior Officer on the Bridge-how'd that happen?-and, yeah, I'm sitting in the Captain's chair, but-but I'm NOT the Captain! Captain Archer, he's the Captain, and T'Pol, she can be Captain if he's not here, but HOW the HELL did I end up being Captain?_

"I'm not the Captain!"

"Stop _saying_ that, Sato. You're the Captain." growled Mayweather as another disruptor shot crashed into the ventral side of the saucer, which wasn't bad considering four beams had been flashing toward them and the able Helmsman had managed to evade three of them.

"But..."

"No buts! Do your damn JOB!"

"FINE then!" the Linguist shouted and she switched her glare back to her chair's tactical screen where the amber triangles of the Raptors swooped and soared, "Hey! If we blow the Klingons both up _then_ can I stop being in charge?"

"Sure!" Travis replied.

"Then Aduko! Blow the Klingons up!"

"Aye, aye, Captain." the blonde Ensign rolled her eyes as her hands darted across the Tactical board, answering the chasing Raptor's attacks the same way she had been doing for the last two minutes: with phase cannons and photonic torpedoes.

_What, have I just been standing here waiting for the Communications Officer to TELL me to fire back at them? Come on now..._

Aduko launched a triple volley of photonics and watched them vector upwards and slam into the underside of the nearest Klingon vessel. And splatter across shimmering shields which barely seemed to notice they'd been hit.

_And what do we have back here?_ scowled Aduko, _Yep, polarized hull plating. Yeah, we're toast. Stupid Vulcans..._

"Bringing us around!" announced Travis.

"What, are you running?" asked Hoshi, "I don't remember giving that order!"

Travis chuckled, "You've only given _one_ order, which was to fire, and Aduko had already been doing that. Hey, why not use that impressive Linguist lung-power and shout down at Engineering to hook Warp back up. Because those Klingons are going to kill us."

"They are?"

"Yes! They are!"

Hoshi looked back to Security and Aduko nodded sedately.

So Sato punched her chair's comlink and started shouting...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

But Assistant Chief Engineer Mendez must have been hard of hearing, because he didn't seem phased by the Communication Officer's temperament.

"What? No. ...No, we can't do that. I'm sorry, Ensign, but we can't just switch it all back, it's not like switching from main power to reserves, or back again, I mean, unhooking the Warp Drive from the transporter will take at least-I _know_ we're under attack, but sorry, it just can't be done on the fly. How long? Well, an hour at least of steady work, maybe two."

The channel disconnected and as the deck shook from another weapons strike Lt. Mendez scowled, "Yep, that's always the way it goes. The Powers That Be are the ones who get us to twist all the technology into funny shapes, and then they blame us when nothing works. It's been like this since the beginning of time."

He covered his face as sparks rained down from above for a moment. _But Ensign Sato is right, if we don't get Warp back online really soon, the ship is finished. Where the heck is the Chief, anyway? If anybody could figure a quicker way to reroute power back from Warp, it'd be Trip..._

He looked toward the Horizontal Tube the Commander had vanished into twenty minutes earlier, but Tucker failed to materialize from the darkness of J-12's entrance. So Mendez frowned and decided to find a way to earn himself a new paygrade.

"Okay everybody, forget the safeties and the back-ups, time to get down and dirty, or else our proverbial goose is cooked!"

But Mendez still wished to hell Trip was here running things instead of him. But he wasn't, because he was

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_hanging...upside-down?_

The vertical shaft seemed to plunge on-and-on below his aching head and Trip felt very dizzy, plus his right knee was on fire!

_We were...hit? Yeah, somethin...somethin hit us... Weapons fire, I'd wager. And I got tossed like...like...like a bull-frog ina blender. Ohhhh, my achin head..._

He reached a tenuous index finger up to his scalp and felt around carefully, touched his left temple and-"Ouch! Uh, jeez..."

Trip pulled his hand away and everything went woozy for a long, spiraling minute. When semi-sanity at last returned he raised his hand and stared at the thick blobs of partially-hardened blood glistening on it, then felt the steady drip-drip-drip coming off his forehead.

_An open laceration, and deep. Yeah...I'm in a whole heap'ah trouble, now ain't I. 'Kay, need ta get off...off this ladder. Which means first I gotta...look up...and see how I'm hangin here like this..._

With a concentrated effort Charles did so, then pressed his chin tight to his chest and peered upwards. He winced as the blood reversed it's path and started flowing into his left eye, but the right one had a clear view and he could now see why his knee was paining him so. Because it was hooked over a rung of the utility ladder really-really tight and...and it was sort of twisted.

Twisted in a way Trip didn't approve of, any way he looked at it. But the knee catching on the ladder like that halfway through his plunge down the shaft had been what had saved him from certain death, so it wasn't _all _bad. Just _mostly_ bad.

"O-kay, I'm not goin anywhere without...without assistance."

Tucker grit his teeth and levered himself into a horizontal position in the shaft by grabbing onto the ladder with his right hand. He gasped in some relief as a bit of the pressure was taken off his battered kneee, then raised a shaking hand to his right shoulder, undid the pocket there and pulled his communicator free. Least he'd been smart enough to carry one, most times onboard he didn't.

_Should be mandatory, ya know. Yeah...that's a good idea. Communicators-you should always have one in a convenient location. Like-Like around your wrist, or...or pinned to your chest..._

"Hey...that_ i__s_ a good idea." Trip drawled to himself as he pried the device's flip-gid open, "A micronize'd comlink in the sh-shape of an insignia pin. When I get back ta Earth, I gotta patent th-that."

The communicator's inner keys and buttons lit-up and he activated a channel, "T-Tucker to Engineering. En-Engineering...come in."

But all he got was static.

"Huh? Oh...right. Too close to the...field coils." he peered up the shaft and-"Damn!"

A plasma fire blazed high above in the starboard engine's utility access, a green-yellow haze more liquid then flame. For a moment Trip wondered how come it hadn't spread any further yet, it at least should have started dripping downwards-

With a whistling sound a chunk of the flame the size of Trip's fist broke loose and plunged down the shaft toward him. Directly toward his _face_.

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Back in the saucer section..._

"Hey! I think I'm getting the hang of these ray-guns!"

"Good for you, Doctor." T'Pol remarked dryly as she discharged her rifle's energy clip and jammed in another.

"And bad for_ them_!"

Sam crouched against the bulkhead ending C Deck and waited for the disruptor volley to fade for a moment, then ducked, swung halfway out, and let-loose with the pair of phase pistols he currently gripped in either hand.

The first beam missed but the second clipped a charging Warrior on the shoulder and he staggered sideways and fell into the wall, allowing Sam to nail him in the back with a third shot. The Klingon went down, and the one behind him roared in anger and fired back, but Sam was already back under cover and the reply shots slapped into the already-disabled turbolift doors at the end of the corridor.

"Hah!" grinned Sam, "Got another one!"

"Strange, Dr. Beckett, you almost sound like you're enjoying yourself." and T'Pol stuck out her arm and fired off a single blast with her plasma rifle, sending the remaining Klingons dashing for cover.

He shrugged, "They've been chasing us through the ship for almost a half hour now and I've seen the corpses of at three of your crewmen, slaughtered in ways I thought I'd completely forgot about back when I was in 'Nam. So I'm not going to feel guilty about returning the favor. They attacked _us_, remember."

"Indeed." she pulled her arm back and watched another pair of red bolts slam into the smoking lift door, knocking it partway off of it's track. "But make sure that you do not allow the adrenaline high to cloud your judgment, Dr. Beckett. I prefer not to lose you to an arrogant show of bravado."

"Yeah, good point, because then you'd never get Captain Archer back." Sam inwardly frowned at his bullish behavior. _Forgot for a minute there that I'm not just Sam Beckett right now, I'm also the current timeline's version of Jonathan Archer. Meaning every time I take a risk, so does he, and if I'm killed then Archer will be stranded in the past, wearing my face until the day he dies, a hundred years before he was even BORN..._

"Quantum Leaping around in time can really be annoying sometimes, you know that?" he muttered.

"So I have seen." remarked T'Pol, then she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, "The Klingons."

Sam's index fingers caressed the triggers of his phase pistols, "What about them?"

"They are no longer firing."

He grinned, "Has the Cavalry arrived?"

"I do not understand your meaning."

"Oh yeah, you wouldn't. What I meant is, has another group of my-your Officers come to our rescue?"

"Perhaps..." and shouldering her MACO-issue rifle for a moment, T'Pol risked a quick glance around the corner, "Or, perhaps not..."

Sam scowled, "What is it?" and he looked out too, and saw

Malcolm Reed.

But he hadn't defeated the Klingons, he was now their badly-beaten and barely conscious prisoner.

"Throw down your weapons!" shouted the Warrior in charge, "Throw them down, or we will gut this _baktag_ human like a pig!"

**To be continued...**


	21. Part XXI

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XX****I**** - Deep in December**

_In the hands of a madman..._

Two-Star Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci, "Al" to his closest friends, hung by his neck more then a foot above the alabaster floor of Project Quantum Leap's Control Room, feet kicking the air uselessly, fingers desperately clawing at the single unrelenting hand that encircled his throat in a grip like titanium.

Slowly, every-so slowly, Al ran out of oxygen, and the hooked thumb pressing down on his windpipe showed no signs of lessening, which meant he would be dead in less then a minute. And in the ever-so-close air around him, barely discernible to both human and Augment eye, the amber sparks of K-particles whirled and danced, revealing to the corpses scattered about the Stallions Gate nexus the most feared being in the latter-half of Earth's Twentieth Century.

Khan Noonien Singh's ruddy profile panned back-and-forth like the tracking gun emplacement of a naval destroyer, his dark eyes hooded, his expression one of the rarest ever seen splashed across the face of a genetically-engineered superman: confusion.

Not fear of course, there was little chance of that, no matter what bizarre hurdles Khan's unprecedented life-experience had thrown into his path. The scientists that had created him and his ilk had made sure to breed out any emotion that might hamper his ability to complete a task, no matter how difficult it might be. But on a rare occasion it was still possible that he could be caught off-guard, if the timing was just right. And his unexpected displacement to this unique location had managed to achieve what very few Military men had ever succeeded in doing:

Khan Noonien Singh was...concerned.

But not very.

At last his accessing gaze returned to that of his sputtering captive. _He is not long for this existence, I can sense the beating of his heart and it is slowing. I give him thirty seconds before he falls into unconsciousness,_ Khan's brilliant mind concluded, _and then another twenty before his frail anatomy completely fails..._

The former ruler of all territory from Asia through to the Middle East sniffed in distaste at the apparently-elderly creature just-now ceasing to struggle before him. Khan sighed and going against his own better judgment released the pressure on the swarthy human's esophagus, though only just a tad. Instantly the dark-haired man dragged in a ragged breath and the purple in his rounded cheeks reduced somewhat, his eyes ceased to bug-out so.

_Not an improvement,_ Singh decided.

"This place..." the eloquent North Indian accent gripped Khan's words luxuriously, "...what is it?"

"Guhhhh..." was all Al could manage, his eyes rolling in their sockets. _Wha...what's hap...happening......S-Sam? Wha..._

Khan studied the polychromatic-cast walls of the buried chamber with disdain, then glowered up at the aquamarine incandescence of the compu-sphere hung amidst the impressive array of technology clinging to the rectangular room's stark ceiling. Then he looked back to his prisoner.

"I was brought here against my will by a method not known to me. How was this accomplished?"

"I...who..."

"Answer me!" he shook his prisoner hard and the man flopped in his grip like a sickly kitten. "I was on an island in the Mediterranean called...called..." Khan's impressive brow furrowed, "Why can I not recall it's name? My memory...it is incomplete." His gaze sharpened with fury and he prepared to crush the man's neck, "You! You have done this to me! WHY! Answer me, or death shall be your punishment!"

"Y-You... You're Khan..."

"Yes. I am Khan. And you are?"

"Go...go to...go to _hell_!" the Admiral spat, and managed a weak glower.

But instead of increasing Khan's rage, instead Al's boldness quenched it, at least somewhat. Singh smiled the slow, sure grin of a cat who knows the mouse it has cornered in the pantry cannot possibly escape it's grim destiny, then lowered the Admiral back to the floor, released him.

Al staggered back, hands cupping his throbbing neck, and dragged in his first un-hindered breath in more then three minutes. PQL's normally stale oxygen had never tasted sweeter, despite how it burned down the Rear Admiral's battered windpipe. He moved back a step and hitched up against the blocky control console, cast a quick glance up at the compu-sphere, which flickered a quick greeting back down at him.

_At least...at least I'm not alone in this, _Al's mind whirled, as he felt the backs of his ankles press up against the deathly-still arm of the prone Captain Archer. He tried to stretch his ears to their utmost, to try and detect any sign of life from the fallen _Enterprise_ commander, but no sound rose up from the floor to quiet his greatest fear; that the Starfleet Officer was dead, making it impossible for Sam Beckett to escape from the 22nd Century.

_Wait, that's not my greatest fear. Sure, it's right up there, bucking heads with vampires and ghoulie things that go bump in the night, but Sam possibly being stranded a century and half in the future doesn't even COMPARE to...to this guy. _He eyed the statuesque form of Khan Noonien Singh as the dictator stepped round the back of the control console and stared down at it's tecnhicolor surface like a biologist studies the frog he's dissecting.

_Oh crap, I have GOT to get him away from there! No telling WHAT he might do if he figures out any of our technology. With just the normal weapons of war Khan managed to conquer a quarter of the globe without most of the world's population even knowing he existed. Give him the advantages of this complex and...and..._

And the Rear Admiral's mind refused to give into the terror of such an idea, because it was just too frightening, even for a battle-forged mind such as his. No, there was no time for letting his imagination run away from him, he needed to concentrate on the situation at hand, no matter how dire it was, and to utilize all the advantages he had over history's greatest genetic Augment. As varied and plentiful as those advantages _weren't_.

"Heh, hey, what do you think you're, uh, doing?" Al cleared his burning throat and shifted his bearing into what he hoped gave him a devil-may-care facade.

"Doing?" Khan looked up from the console, "I am _doing_ whatever I please, as destiny has generously bequeathed one of my position and accomplishment. You still haven't answered my question, Mister...Mister..."

"Actually, it's Admiral."

"Admiral? Admiral..." for some reason the title seemed to bother Khan, but the feeling fled a moment later.

"Yeah. Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci, to be precise. But you go ahead and call me Al."

"I will not. Now, what is this place, and how and why have I been brought here? Answer quickly, Admiral, for you will find that painful reprisals are something I have no hesitation whatsoever in dealing upon those who attempt to hinder me."

"Perish the thought, heh. No, I didn't bring you here to hinder you, Khan, I-"

"You did _not_ bring me here."

Al blinked, then remembered that attempting to tell a bold-face lie to an Augment could be a fatal mistake; their grasp of body language was unparalleled, not to mention the fact that their genetically advanced senses could easily detect the changes in heart-rate and eye-movement indicative of attempting to deceive.

"Right, yeah, sorry, that's true. Sure, I played an, um, indirect part in you getting here, but yeah, it wasn't me who made the decision to do so, it was this woman who broke in here."

_Gotta play this straight, _Al swallowed hard, _gotta tell only the truth to this guy and practice the art of withholding important details without giving any indications that more is going on__ here__ then this genetically-upgraded psycho needs to know__ about__. Talk about a challenge, every room in this place is packed to the brim with information files speaking blatantly about what Project Quantum Leap is all about, not to mention the cafeteria full of easily-interrogated people just a few floors above. Oh man, we are so screwed here. Where the heck is Sam?! He said he was the Observer this Leap, so come on, buddy, start Observing! I need your council pal, and HOW..._

"Woman?" demanded Khan, "What woman?"

"She said her name was, um, let's see...Amri? Right, Amri Carr. Think she was some kind of secretary, or girl-Friday, or whatever."

"You speak in riddles. Clarify."

"Um, okay. This woman broke-in here and forced us to swap her for you. So she went where you were, and you were brought here."

Khan's eyes narrowed, "Swap? By what method? Was I drugged? Because I have no memory of any passage of time since I was suddenly taken from the island."

"What island?"

"I _told_ you, Admiral, I cannot re--ENOUGH!" and he backhanded Al hard across the face, sending him flying across the Control Room! He landed on his elbows and slid across the slick floor on his stomach nearly all the way to the Accelerator door!

_Uhhh...guy's got a kick like a __mare__ in...in heat...have to remember that I'm like an...an ant to him. He's got like the strength of five men, all of them...really and...truly......pissed...?_

Al trailed off and his mouth went dry at the sight of the small object sitting on the floor right before his face. He'd been so lost in the pain and helpless strategizing that he hadn't even seen what was, well, right before his nose. Literally, in fact.

An idea occurred to him, one that filled him with both gut-wrenching fear and desperate hope at the same time. It was so far-fetched, it was so _crazy_ that...that...THAT...

_That it just might work..._

And gripping his find Al stood and slowly turned about, stuffing the object deep into the pocket of his crimson sport coat before his nemesis could catch sight of it. Khan was in the midst of stalking toward him, murder in his eyes and fists raised to dash his skull in, but Al cocked his head up at the Olympian Sikh and spread his lips into his most devilish grin, the one that could melt even the coldest of feminine hearts and bring hesitancy to the seemingly-unchippable facade of even the most egotistical of men.

Khan jerked to a halt, his dark eyes narrowing in confusion for the second time this day, a record-breaking achievement. He suddenly felt self-conscious, like somehow this little toad of a man had gotten one up on him, that he had achieved an advantage where none should have possibly existed. Khan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he needed to kill this Admiral Calavicci, that the man was too clever by half, and that his best chance of getting on top of this strange situation lay in first tearing the man named Al's head from his shoulders _right now_, but

But...

_But..._

But he couldn't resist asking "...What? What is it?"

"Do you smoke?" Al inquired, and he produced an expensive-looking cigar from the inside of pocket of his sports jacket.

"No. I do not. It is a foul, loathsome habit, a weakness of your pathetic bloodline that was easily deleted along with the rest of the frailties and errors in your genetic code when I was created."

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? And what, _exactly_, do you think you know, Admiral?"

"Oh, all kinds of things. Like how you were defeated. How you ALL were defeated. 'Cause I was one of the guys who helped do it."

"Were you..."

"You're from 1996, aren't you? Yeah, don't try to lie about it, I can tell. I can see it in your eyes, in how you carry yourself; the beaten tyrant about to make one last desperate grasp at victory, most likely through some hair-brained last-ditch plan that only a madman would resort to. And, heh, the machinations of a madman, they're _right_ up your alley, ain't they, Khan."

"Why do you talk to me like this, Admiral, when you _know _I will kill you for it?"

"Because I've got something you want--no, scratch that, I've got something you _need_. Have you guessed what?"

Khan looked about him at the strange chamber, at the futuristic technology it contained, "This...this is a weapon?"

"Sure. Every new technology that just one man possesses, while others do not, can be perverted into a weapon. And this place, pal, this can _easily _be turned into a weapon of MASS destruction. And do you know how?"

His very lethal opponent stared him down and waited for the answer.

"Easy! Because this, buddy, _this_...is a time machine!"

And with those words absolute silence filled the Control Room of Project Quantum Leap...

**To be continued...**


	22. Part XXII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XX****I****I - Swiftly Fly the Years**

_Twelve meters below _Enterprise_'s starboard nacelle..._

"Wha-jeez!"

Commander Charles Tucker's eyes nearly crossed in their sockets as the bubbling blob of plasma soared downwards on a direct course for his face, and he instinctively let go of the ladder, sending his torso levering back downwards! His shoulder-blades crashed into rungs again and the chunk of green-yellow napalm flashed past him, it's gooey flames searing the tip of his nose as it plunged.

"OW!" he jerked at the sudden burning pain and his body convulsed, causing him to let go of the communicator and also made his knee unhook from the rung it had been wrapped around and-and Trip fell!

Again.

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_F Deck..._

With a wicked rending noise the inner Brig door finally gave way and crashed to the deck, bent nearly in half. Across the threshold marched the tank-like physique of a grizzled Klingon, his mane of matted hair peppered with grey, betraying his age, but in no way detracting from the aura of brutal menace that emanated off of him almost like a stench. He turned about and halted before the recently-repaired cell door and eyed the female behind it critically as she clambered to her feet, eyes fearful but mouth twisted into a happy sneer.

"_Dahar_ Master!" the Daughter of Blirna instinctively shifted to bone-jarring attention, "I am honored that you personally have come! I fought my way through three of this foul garbage scow's decks, and killed several of her treacherous crew, in order to access their communications grid and transmit my message. And the _qoH_ humans didn't even know I did it!" she grinned at her achievement.

"Yes, well done, Lieutenant." her liberator nodded stiffly, "My vessel was the one which received your transmission, yes, but-where is your husband? Where is Koeroth!"

Sotrell's eyes dropped to the jagged toes of her boots, "I...I am sorry to tell you, Master, but down on Talitha III he...he fell in battle."

And the_ Dahar_ Master's eyes narrowed, "At the hands of Archer?"

"Yes. His First Officer T'Pol, actually, but we were engaged in direct conflict with both of them."

The revered Warrior's jaw worked, "This Vulcan female...she still lives?"

Sotrell's tone was prostrated, "Sadly, yes, Master. She, as well as the Starfleet devil Jonathan Archer, still breath. But they are near, aboard this very vessel."

He punched the cell controls, caving them in and sending the door flying open, "Then before this day is through their foul heads shall be crushed under my heel! Under the heel of Tollg, Father of Koeroth!"

And thus the Blood Oath was sworn...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_The Bridge..._

"Yes!"

Ensign Sato's olive fists thumped the armrests of the center seat with glee as the last of three torpedoes honed in on the port engine of the first Raptor. Under Deserie Aduko's sure hand a concentrated phase cannon shot had torn down the shields there ten seconds early, leaving the rust colored nacelle's exterior plating naked as the day it was poured in the starship foundries of Praxis. And now three torpedoes had first hulled, then rended, and finally blown the engine into fiery _scrap_!

"Oh _yeah_," whooped the _Enterprise_'s very unlikely skipper, "watch that bastard SPIN!"

To say Hoshi was totally psyched now would not be a great exaggeration. In fact, she felt completely energized by knocking the first Klingon scout vessel out of the fight, before they could have a chance to do the same to them. All the feelings of inadequacy, nervousness, and even downright bowel-venting terror seemed to have been instantly eroded away by the winds of victory, leaving behind a hard, hot, deep sense of...of...

_Of power! _the acting-Captain grinned like a jack-o'-lantern, _I defeated a Klingon ship, ME, meek little Hoshi. And here I thought I was just going to curl up into a tight catatonic ball under this chair and wait for death. Huh, who knew I could do this? And, wow, that felt damn GOOD! _she licked her already moist lips, _And you know what? Yep. I want_

"More!"

"Ens-I mean, Captain? Yes?" asked Aduko as she tracked the second Raptor circling around in the distance, much more hesitant to engage now, since _Enterprise_ had disabled her sister-ship.

"More!" googled Hoshi, "Do it!"

"Um...do what?"

"Finish them off, of course!" ordered Sato as her eyes soaked up the tactical image of their ship and the Raptors, squaring off just outside the gravity well of Talitha's twin suns. "Destroy them!"

"What?" the Security Officer gaped at the back of the Asian Linguist's ebony-haired skull.

"What?" Mayweather looked back over his shoulder at the Ensign-turned-Captain-turned-maniac and blinked in surprise at the way her normally very sedate eyes seemed to be...be...

_Shining! They're shining, and am I correct, is she also salivating? What the hell_-

"Their shields are down?" Hoshi eyed the bluish lighting of an overload crawling across two-thirds of the scout ship's hull.

Aduko glanced down at her readings, "Yes, Ensign, for the most part."

"That's _Captain_ to you!" snapped Sato and she squared her narrow shoulders and sat up straighter, "Finish them off."

"Excuse me?"

"Do I _need_ to relieve you of your Station, Aduko? Because, yeah, I will."

"No, Captain. Aye, aye, understood." and she spooled up the photonics.

"Um...Hoshi?" Travis inquired carefully.

"Ahem..." she cleared her throat darkly, her tone laden with authority.

"Oh. Um...Captain?"

"Yes?" Sato answered brightly.

"What exactly are you doing? Sir?"

"Eliminating a potential threat and showing the remaining Klingon vessel that we mean business."

"But-"

"Mayweather." she interrupted him.

"Sir?"

"Just do your job. Oh, and try and keep us from falling into the gravity well of one of those stars over there, okay? Okay..."

Travis nodded curtly, then turned back to the Helm as Aduko sent another barrage of photons lashing across the five hundred klick gap and blew the disabled Raptor into an expanding orange-white fireball to rival Talitha System's twin suns.

_Mess with the best, die with the rest. Yeah, I'm glad Reed never showed up, this is FUN,_ Hoshi sneered, then her eyes switched to the viewscreen's Tactical display as the remaining Raptor suddenly whipped about on it's axis and charged them in fury, disruptors blazing!

And the Captain of the _Enterprise _grinned like a shark, "Bring it ON..."

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Two levels below..._

Are you sure? he mouthed.

She nodded firmly.

He shrugged, What the hell, you only live twice.

Twice?

It was a song-no, wait a movie.

James Bond?

He blinked, You know James Bond?

We have a weekly movie onboard _Enterprise _and while that is not a James Bond film I have seen, I have been forced to sit through nine of them so far.

Forced? Were they that bad?

...The Living Daylights had it's merits.

The Living...?

Timothy Dalton, I believe.

...Who?

He was-

"Are you pathetic _mak'dars _going to come out and give-up or WHAT!" the leader of the four Klingon invaders shouted down the corridor, interrupting T'Pol and Sam's impromptu film discussion. "I told you, we will GUT this one!" and he jabbed the point of his serrated blade into Reed's stomach again, illiciting a grunt from the battered Armory Officer.

There was a pause and then the Vulcan tossed out her plasma rifle, which was followed a moment later by Sam's phase pistol.

"ALL your weapons!" snarled the Klingon.

The second phase pistol clattered to the middle of the deck as well.

"Good. Very good. Now, come out slowly hands on your head. And no tricks!"

T'Pol stepped free, hands laced behind her skull, and Dr. Beckett followed, eyes panning back-and-forth in his sockets. The quad of Warriors allowed them to pass unmolested down the passageway, but tracked them with their disruptors the entire twelve meter trip. At last they arrived and Sam eyed the welts on Reed's swollen face, "You okay?"

"I've been better."

"Silence!" snarled the lead Klingon as he produced two pairs of manacles from under his hard leather vest, "There will be no discussion! You are now prisoners of war-"

"War?" asked T'Pol gravely, "It was my understanding that the Raptor we destroyed had been stolen from your shipyards by renegades who had committed crimes against colonies on both our sides."

"The Raptor belonging to _Dahar_ Master Tollg was taken by Koeroth-"

"Heh," chuckled Sam as harsh as he could muster, "Koeroth, what a coward. He died really badly. And I enjoyed _making_ his woman mine!"

"-taken by Koeroth, the _Dahar_ Master's son." finished the Klingon.

Sam blinked, "Um...so, it wasn't really stolen? Koeroth...he wasn't really a, uh, criminal?"

"No. He was not..."

He chewed his bottom lip, "This was a family dispute?"

"Yes. A personal matter for the House of Tollg."

"And I take it that a _Guitar_ Master-"

"_Dahar_!"

"Right, _Dahar_. I take it that a _Dahar _Master is somebody of some, um, importance among you Klingons?"

The Warrior bristled, "It is a title of great respect and reverence among our people, human! Your dishonorable act shall be punished to the extreme! Your home planet shall burn! All humans shall be hunted down and gutted like-"

"-pigs..." finished Sam, "Yeah, I'm starting to see that's a recurrent theme for you guys. Okay, thanks for the info." and he glanced in T'Pol's direction, Now!

She answered by pulling the hands from behind her head, revealing the photon grenade she had been holding there with the tips of her index fingers. She thumbed it to life and jammed it down the lead Klingon's collar, pushing it deep beneath his leather jerkin with one hard _shove_!

"RUN!" she shouted and her hands flashed out to the necks of two other Klingons, downing them with nerve pinches, while Sam sent a high Judo kick into the face of the third, then they were running back down the passage, hauling the staggering Malcolm Reed between them, the remaining Klingon tore madly at his tunic, tried to get it open but-_BOOOM!_

The brilliant flashbang roared down the corridor after the fleeing trio, but they flung themselves at the damaged turbolift door, knocking it out of the way, and crashed through it into the open shaft! They plunged down another two levels before T'Pol managed to catch onto one utility ladder, Sam and Reed the other, and the blue-white shockwave plowed above them a second later, scalding the back wall of the shaft! Then it was past and all was quiet once more.

Reed raised his head and coughed, looked up the length of the rungs to Dr. Beckett who grinned down at him and gave the Brit a thumbs-up. Malcolm scowled, "You call that a rescue operation?"

"Operation?" said Sam, "Well, not really. More like a...like a badly rehearsed plan that really shouldn't have worked."

"That 'badly rehearsed plan' was my idea." frowned T'Pol from the other ladder, "And there was no time to rehearse it."

"Yep," nodded Sam, "It was do or die."

Reed frowned, "Took the two of you long enough to come up with it though. It seemed like you waited at the end of the corridor for nearly forever. No offense, but a plan like that should have taken no longer then say three seconds to work out, so what the devil were you talking about that was so important?"

"What?" said Sam, "Oh, nothing really. Military strategy, and, um, complex battle plans. Right, T'Pol?"

"Of course. Klingon psychology as well." and she began the climb up to A Deck. Reed and Sam followed after her up their own rungs. "Hey, nearly forgot." said Sam, "Who's Timothy Dalton again?"

"Timothy Dalton?" exclaimed Reed.

"Not now, please, Dr. Beckett." frowned T'Pol.

"Oh, sorry."

"Bleeding Klingon battle-tactics, my _arse_..."

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Twenty meters below _Enterprise_'s starboard nacelle..._

As reality slowly began to return, Trip raised his head from the deck and found himself lying on his side, the bottom rung of the ladder an inch from his nose, the tip of which still stung like the wrong end of an angry hornet had settled upon it. He remembered his knee popping free and then falling again, he had twisted in the air, tried to catch hold of the ladder, but his fingers had just slapped against the blurring rungs, then the deck rose up and

and...

"And I'm lucky I ain't dead." Trip muttered to himself, "Guess I wasn't as high up as I thought I was. Musta...musta been the vertigo"

With a concentrated effort he managed to turn over and sit up. He looked down and frowned, his knee was still twisted a bit too far to the left for his tastes, though the pain had reduced to the point of a distant throb. Not one to count his chickens, Trip looked back up the shaft and saw that the plasma fire had gone out, most likely due to the automatic fire-control system.

"Which shoulda kicked in a _whole_ lot sooner then this!"

The head of somebody on his Engineering team was gonna roll, that much was certain, but Charles didn't have time to waste trying to figure who exactly it was that deserved the blame, 'cause T'Pol needed to be made aware of what he'd discovered up in the nacelle, before the ship had been...before whatever it was that had struck the ship and started his hellish journey back down the engine's Vertical Tube.

_If it was a__n__ asteroid strike it must have been a really BIG one! So how come scanners didn't pick it up? Blowin it outa space long before it could hit us shoulda been a cakewalk for Malcolm or one of his boys, so then...then it couldn't have been some space debris that hit the engine, which means...uhhh which means somebody took a pot-shot at us. Aw, jeez..._

He listened carefully for a moment but could hear nothing to indicate they were in a battle. But that could mean anything; they could have destroyed the attacking ship or driven them off, or...

_...or maybe we were defeated and now we're under enemy control. And maybe I'm the only one onboard not captured, so it's up to me to liberate the crew and lead the charge to free us all from the...the Klingons?_

"Nah, it can't be the Klingons, there was only supposed to be the one renegade ship, and the Cap'n blew her to bits. Or Dr. Beckett, I should say."

Trip was still a bit foggy on the whole Quantum Leap issue. Had Beckett swapped places with Captain Archer before or after his shuttlepod had come upon the Klingon Raptor finishing off that Tellarite freighter?

_Musta been after, 'cause while this Beckett guy seems quite able to handle his-self in a fist-fight, complex shuttle combat is probably beyond his purview. It would take the combined skill of T'Pol AND the Cap'n to take out a Klingon scout with just the weapons of a 'pod, I'd think. But gettin back to the whole Leap'in issue, I gotta get a hold of T'Pol before she and Beckett decide to rev up the transporter and engines to try and send him back to the past..._

He looked around for the communicator he'd dropped and found it sitting on the deck to his left. Sitting in charred and smoking pieces, that is.

"Damn! Musta fallen into the pool of burning plasma before fire-control could get off it's lazy behind and douse it. Well great, there goes doin this the easy way. The next wall-based comlink is at least three tubes away, one of them vertical, which means..." he sighed at the ordeal that was about to come, "...which means I better get ta crawlin."

Trip took a deep breath and shifted to all fours, wincing at the renewed pain now knifing through his kneecap, but tried to compartmentalize it and set off at the fastest pace he was capable of, which was actually pretty slow. But it was going to have to do, because if Sam Beckett tried to use _Enterprise_'s systems to Leap back to the year 1999, Tucker was now convinced the resultant power surge through the nacelles would cause an overload.

An overload that would most assuredly destroy the ship in a matter of minutes.

Charles bit his lip against the pain and tried to crawl faster...

**To be continued...**


	23. Part XXIII

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XXI****I****I - Born to Dream**

_Inside New Mexico's greatest secret..._

"Easy!" Al Calavicci declared to the displaced Augment dictator, "Because this, pal, _this_...is a time machine!"

And the Rear Admiral waved his unburning stogie at the white-walled subterranean chamber surrounding them, at it's bizarre-looking technicolor machinery and it's pair of hex-shaped ivory airlocks, one leading into the recently-fired Quantum Accelerator, and the other into the Imaging Chamber the seasoned Observer so desperately wished he could dash into, because just a few minutes earlier the _Enterprise_-generated hologram of Dr. Samuel Beckett had vanished so abruptly, making Al fear for his time-traveling best friend's life.

Absolute silence followed his grand statement though, as Ziggy the hybrid computer reeled from the _beyond_ dangerous thing Al had just done by revealing the true nature of the complex to not just a Leapee, but to a Leapee as lethally dangerous as Khan Noonien Singh. Khan, however, had a very different reaction to Al's big declaration.

"You...you jest." the North Indian Augment chuckled without humor, "A time-machine? Such a thing is not possible. It is but a fantasy, soley for the weak minded."

Al shrugged and pushed past the ebony-haired titan like he was nobody important, sauntered over to the body of Senator Todd Keller and patted down the deceased politician's coat pockets.

"What are you doing!"

Khan made to spring in his direction, but Calavicci came up with just a gold-plated lighter and the Sikh held back as the Admiral lit the end of his stogie and puffed it to simmering life. He inhaled deeply for a luxurious few seconds, then blew out a thick grey cloud that would have impressed Scarface Capone himself. Now wreathed in rich tobacco-scented smoke, Al stuffed a hand in his pocket and leaned against the side of the control console, fixed the other man with a savage grin.

"You know what, Khan? I like you."

"You do..."

"Yeah, I do." Al said, "You're a smart guy, and unlike all the rest of your supercharged brethren, you handled yourself with style as a dictator."

"Dictator?"

"Sorry, bad choice of words. Heh, I'm a United States Admiral, so of course dishing out double-talk and disinformative propaganda comes as a second nature to me. And don't forget how important a weapon that was against you in the Eugenics Wars."

Khan stiffened, "Eugenics Wars... That term is insulting to my people, as well as racist. You would do well to get to your point, Admiral, else that foul weed burning between your arthritic knuckles may last longer then your own pitiful _life_."

"Heh! Haha! When it comes to the mellowdramatic, you really got them all beat, dontcha, Khan!"

"You DARE mock me!"

Al waved his arms defensively, "No! Not mocking! Seriously, you'll always get nothing but respect from me. I've studied all your moves, all your campaigns, and you were truly amazing. You made Napoleon look like Nero, Genghis looked like Joan of Arc. Really, back in 1993 I was convinced you were going to win, that waging a war against you, even a Cold one, would only strengthen your hand, and lead to you and the rest of the Augments possibly conquering the entire planet. I mean it, Khan, I told the President this repeatedly, nearly leading to my dismissal from his inner circle."

"Your point, Admiral? I grow weary of this flattery, such as it is..."

"Right. Okay, my point. Which is this." and Al slapped the center of the control console, "This IS a time machine, Khan. You vanished just before you could be captured back in late July of 1996. Well guess what, you've been pulled ahead to the year 1999-"

"1999? Ludicrous!"

"-1999!" Al affirmed again, "And I can prove it!"

"You can? How?" and Khan made to fold arms across his chest, but the Rear Admiral's next two words stopped him in his tracks.

"Your daughter."

And Singh's jaw worked for a second, his fingers writhed as if they longed to grasp the Rear Admiral's throat and twist until there was not a breath left in the un-augmented human's wretched body. But Khan managed to get control of himself and squared his regal shoulders.

"Daughter? I_ have _no daughter..."

"Oh YES you did! Not many of you DNA-Power Rangers got around to it, probably out of fear that you might breed a whole new generation superior to you, who would then of course usurp all your petty little kingdoms. But you, Khan, _you_ did the dirty deed, you dog! Yep, you had yourself a daughter-"

"You will be silent! I _command_ you-"

"-a daughter named Amritha Noonien Kaur!"

The fists Khan had raised to dash Admiral Calavicci's face in froze in mid-strike, less then a foot from Al's beaming face, and slowly, ever-so slowly, Khan lowered them...

"...How--How do you know such things? No man should know..."

"But I do! And do you know how? Because this ain't 1996, kiddo, it's 1999! And _guess_ who broke in here and used our Quantum Accelerator to Leap back to your time and swap places with you? Yep, you got it, you just answered the 64,000 dollar question! Your darling baby girl, Amritha, THAT'S who!"

"No! It is not possible!"

"Ziggy! Display a security image of our ever-so fetching lady intruder!"

"Ziggy?" Khan blinked and looked around sharply, "Who is Zig-"

With a snap-hum a letterboxed screen appeared above the control console, projected holographically. And in it was pictured the scowling face of Amritha, frozen in the act of firing her stolen Glock pistol at Al himself.

Khan looked liked he'd been sucker-punched and with a quaking hand reached through the floating image, as if he could actually touch the face of his daughter. "She... She lives? But...she was killed!"

"Kaur looks pretty healthy for a dead woman, no offense. And let me tell ya, Khan, if she isn't an Augment, I don't know what the hell is! She ripped through this place like a whirlwind, taking out the best security people the USA has to offer like they were NOTHING! She's a credit to your 'superior' race, Singh old buddy. Heh, I bet she could even take y_ou_. Again, no offense."

Khan grit his teeth and glared at the image of his furious offspring, "And... And she is back there, even now? In 1996?"

"Yep," Al took another drag on the cigar, "she's back there on that island of yours, wherever it is, running things. Most likely far better then you ever could, heh. Again, no-"

"If you say 'no offense' even ONE more time, Admiral, I will tear out your spine and _strangle_ you with it!"

"Heh, um...yeah, I get your drift. Sorry."

Khan smoothed down the front of his fermi-suit, "But you are wrong about Amritha 'running things'. My people would not follow her. They don't even know of her existence, no one living does, other then you, somehow. No, my followers are a paranoid band and would kill anyone they didn't know on sight."

Al grinned, "Yeah, but there's one problem with your logic, Khan."

"What?"

"See, Amritha hasn't just switched places with you, she's _become_ you. Your aura surrounds her and anybody seeing or hearing her will perceive you, Khan Noonien Singh, and not your daughter. That's what Quantum Leaping IS! Leaping into other people's lives in the past and fixing their mistakes so that the future is reshaped into a better place for them, and hopefully all of humanity, to live in."

"You are mad! Such a thing--it is not possible!"

"You keep saying that, Khan, and I keep proving you wrong. And get ready for it to happen again. Ziggy! Vacuum out the K-particles and give King Kong here a chance to see himself."

"_Right away, Admiral._" replied the hybrid computer and there came a whir from somewhere up in the ceiling. For a long moment nothing happened, then Khan's skin and hair seemed to shimmer, to distort, then it morphed back into the image of Amritha Noonien Kaur.

Al reached out a finger and poked Khan's now-graceful right hand, "Oops, there goes those hairy knuckles."

Khan stared down at his well-manicured, very feminine fingernails, turned them over in confusion, then looked up and gasped!

Ziggy had altered the control console's hologram screen, turning it quicksilver, making it into a mirror. And in the reflective surface Khan did _not_ see himself standing beside the Admiral, he saw Amritha!

"So..._now_ do you believe me?" Al asked, as Khan dragged a hand down his right cheek and prodded the nose that wasn't his.

"This is madness! You must switch it back! I will NOT be seen like this, you must-"

"-send you back to 1996?" finished Al, "There is nothing I would like to do more."

"Then do so! I command this!"

"Then as the spider said to the fly, step into my parlor..." Al pointed with his cigar at the Accelerator Chamber door.

But Khan hesitated, "But how do I know this isn't a trap? You admit you are one of those who worked to destroy my rule, Admiral, that you are my sworn enemy, whether or not your 'admiration' for my conquests and campaigns is real or fake. So, how do I know you are not attempting to lure me to my doom, inside that chamber?"

Al shrugged and took another puff on his stogie, "Guess you'll just have to trust me."

"Trust you? Khan Noonien Singh trusts NO man, Augment or not!"

"Heh...maybe that's why you lost." Al's eyes crinkled, "No offense."

Khan scowled lethally at him, "You task me, Admiral, you task me. Be aware, this is a very dangerous game you play here."

"And I play it everyday, trust me. But I'm well aware that I can't deceive you, Khan, that no un-Augmented human can, thanks to your enhanced senses. You're a living lie-detector. So tell me...has anything I've just told you been a lie? What do your instincts say?"

Khan looked deep into the Admiral's eyes one more time, then finally gave in, "No... You speak the truth." he looked to the chamber door, "That will take me home?"

"Yep."

"And it will bring my daughter back here?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But don't worry, this time I'll be ready for her."

"I wish you good fortune on that accord, Admiral." and for a moment Khan's eyes seemed to look back into his own past with regret, "Amritha was a formidable opponent, and I regretted having to eliminate her."

"Heh, don't you mean you regret having _failed_ to eliminate her?"

"That as well..." Khan squared his shoulders and headed forward. He went to the Accelerator and paused at the door, turned back, "You have done well by me, Rear Admiral, so know this: you have earned the respect of Khan Noonien Singh here, a rare event for one of your kind."

"Right..." and from behind the control console Al shot the Augment a nasty sneer, "...like I give a DAMN whether a psycho nozzle like YOU respects me or not."

"What?" Khan gaped at him in astonishment, "I don't un-"

"-derstand? Oh, but you will." and Al nudged the body lying beside the console with his foot, "Won't he, Captain?"

"Most definitely." Jonathan Archer replied as he sprang up, the .45 automatic still hand, and sticking his index finger through the trigger guard he took aim for Khan.

"NO!" and Singh sprang forward--Archer fired!

The .45 roared over-and-over, Jonathan didn't hesitate, he just churned the trigger as quickly as the antique fire-arm would let him, and slug-after-slug slammed into Singh's unprotected chest! Or, it would have, but blue lightning had erupted around his body a nanosecond _before _the first round could hit him and Khan was gone, he had Leaped, and in his place returned his daughter, just in time to meet the bullets! The shocked Amritha Kaur howled in fury and agony as her life-blood sprayed, she managed to stagger forward one more step, then pitched over and crashed down onto the alabaster floor on her face.

And she was dead.

Captain Archer lowered the gun and heaved a sigh of relief, "Now _there's_ something you don't get to do every day."

"What?" Al asked absently as he stubbed out his cigar on the console and began activating the systems it was linked to.

"Execute one of history's greatest dictators."

"Heh...um, yeah, that's true. Not every day." Thanks to his quantumly-tuned senses Al had seen the Leap take place, while Archer had not, but he didn't see any point in ruining the moment for the Captain, so he just played along. "Though too bad, Jon, when all this is over you won't remember it."

"I won't?" Archer frowned for a second, then relented, "Hmmm, maybe that's a good idea. Khan Singh or not, I'm no murderer."

"Good for you, Captain. But don't waste any tears on Khan there, he doesn't deserve them." and the Admiral punched up an intercom channel to PQL's Clinic.

"Tina?" Al spoke into the console's embedded mike, "You there, babe? Tina!"

"_Al honey?_" she finally answered, "_Oh, Al! You're okay!_"

"Yep, babe, I'm right as rain. Now, get your fine butt down here, I need you!"

_"Oooo, Al! I need you too, honey! But are you sure this is the right time?_"

"Not for _that_! No, I need you to man the control console."

"_Oh..._" she sounded disappointed, "_Sure. I'll be right down. Gooshie's gonna be okay, by the way._"

Al smiled, "That's good to hear. See you soon." and he flicked off the comlink.

"Why do you need her to man the console?" asked Archer.

Al shrugged out of his sports jacket and tossed it to the Starfleet Officer, "Because, Jon, I'm planning on taking me a little trip."

"You are? Where?"

"Not w_here_..." Al grinned savagely, "...but _when_." and together they looked to the Quantum Accelerator...

**To be continued...**


	24. Part XXIV

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XXI****V**** - Forgive the Past**

_Rounding the center of the Talitha Star System..._

Across the chasm of black space, with the light of the binary suns glistening like crystal shadows off their hulls, the two combating starships circled each other slowly, while the wreckage of the third vessel continued it's slow expansion, born on the wings of it's expelled atmosphere.

With a shimmer of her silent transporter, the Raptor _JevQIb_'s commander beamed back aboard her forward Command Module, his daughter-in-law Lt. Sotrell in attendance. The rest of the boarding party had also returned, though they had been shunted to the Cargo Hold. The _Dahar_ Master no longer saw any point to fighting this battle deck-to-deck. Besides, the humans outnumbered them four to one and Tollg had no way of knowing where on the Starfleet vessel his two primary targets were.

_So why not just have the _JevQIb _destroy the ENTIRE NX-Class all at once, thus knowing for certain my Blood Oath has been honored, _Tollg scowled darkly as he completed rematerialization, _yes, this is the best way in-which to achieve vengeance! And vengeance I shall have, or die trying..._

"Master!" his one-eyed First Officer sprang to his feet and saluted, "You have returned!"

"Yes..." Tollg eyed the main screen upon which the _Enterprise_ was banking to port, "...I have returned." and sweeping back he ascended to his command throne and hunched down into it's _narrH_-furred depths, his expression veiled.

His First glanced sideways at Sotrell as she relieved the Pilot and took his place at the Raptor's flight controls, "It is pleasing to see you still live, Lieutenant, but where is your husband?"

"The _Dahar_ Master's son was killed in battle down on Talitha III," she replied stiffly, "but it was a fierce battle, and he acquitted himself with honor."

"Koeroth was killed by a Vulcan woman!" snarled Tollg sharply from his throne, making both of them jump. "Though the Lieutenant tells me this Commander T'Pol was a worthy opponent, so I shall not press the matter. But that will NOT stop me from spreading her foul emerald blood, and the blood of her treacherous Captain, from one end of this star system to the other!"

"Yes, Master!" rallied Sotrell, "Death! Death to the _Enterprise_!"

"DEATH to the _Enterprise_!" roared all the rest.

"Enough of this _qovpatlhp_ dancing!" roared Tollg and he spun around in his thrown to face the Command Module's rear-mounted auxiliary consoles, "Lt. Khurr! Transfer every ounce of reserve power we have into the deflector grid! Boost the shields as much as possible!"

"It shall be done!" growled the on-deck Engineer.

"Gunner!" Tollg looked to the right, "Reduce the yield on the photon torpedoes by..." he did a fast mental calculation, "...by nineteen point three-no, nineteen point four _kellicots_."

"Nineteen point four, understood!"

The _Dahar_ Master swiveled back forward, "Pilot: begin an evasive attack run!"

"With pleasure..." snarled Sotrell, and she sent the sun-dappled _JevQIb_ flying forward! The Raptor plowed through the thinning cloud of remaining debris and zeroed in on E_nterprise_, eager for the kill!

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_On the Bridge of their enemy..._

"Here they come!" advised Ensign Aduko.

"Yeah, I can see that." said acting-Captain Sato, "My eyes are working just find, you know."

"Hey, Captain, just doing my job," Deserie scowled, "no need to bite my head off."

"My, aren't you touchy." Hoshi pudged out her bottom lip, "Will you just open fire, already. You know, before that weaving ship gets close enough to blow us apart? Seeing how our weapons appear to have a longer minimum firing range then theirs?"

"Oh, I suppose." Aduko let-loose with forward phase cannons, then frowned. _Our weapons have a longer MFR then the Klingons? Huh, I didn't notice that..._

The two blue rays flashed off across the ebony expanse, waved hello to the Klingon disruptors coming from the opposing direction, then followed the four red beams back to their source and slammed into the banking _JevQIb_'s forward shield grid, tearing twenty-two percent out of it in a pavonian dazzle, then a moment later one of the two photonic torpedoes _Enterprise _sent after the phase shots managed a lucky strike on the same location and extracted another forty-nine, which was five percent the defectors didn't have, and so the remaining destructive power ripped across the _JevQIb_, shaking the ferruginous scout to it's very core and shorting out half her systems.

"Nice one! Way to go!" grinned Hoshi as Mayweather adeptly ducked them under the wildly-fired disruptor barrage.

"I do good work, yep." beamed Aduko, then "Oh, damn-"

And the damaged scout soared over them at a crooked angle and unleashed a pair of photons at nearly point-blank range! It was a desperate, suicidal move, because the detonation would most-likely deal just as much damage to the Klingons as it would to _Enterprise_, but the _Dahar_ Master had been counting on the fact that his photons had been reduced just enough in power that they still would be lethal to _Enterprise_, while his scout's shield grid had been boosted just enough to stay intact.

Which thanks to a lucky photonic hit by Ensign Aduko it wasn't.

A lesser man would have called off the torpedo strike, but the _Dahar _Master was not a man, nor was Tollg's resolve weaker then that of any other Klingon Warrior. That's why they called it a Blood Oath.

BA-_BOOOOM!_

The photon torpedo hit double-punched the top of _Enterprise_'s saucer, knocking her nose down_ hard_ in a spray of blue fire and flying hull fragments, while the backlash from the cruel assault ripped into the _JevQIb_ even as she was trying valiantly to pull away and

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Kahless, if I am not ready for your Unforgettable embrace, give wings to my wrath! _Sotrell, Daughter of Blirna internally intoned, and while the world went super-nova all around her, she swiveled about in her chair and sprang back across the Command Module and

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

and the Klingon vessel blew!

Nobody on the _Enterprise_ noticed though, they were way too busy holding on for dear life or being tossed bodily, as their ship hurtled downwards, somersaulting prow-over-nacelles, trailing atmosphere from a ragged crack that started just to the left of the Bridge dome and continued jaggedly for nearly ten meters toward the edge of the saucer.

As the white lightning of overloads dashed in-and-out of the primary hull, setting off fires, torching consoles and scrapping machinery, up on A Deck itself, Ensign Travis Mayweather clung to the Helm with one hand while his other fought by itself to regain control of the ship. Thrusters weren't responding and Impulse was out of the question, so that just left

_What?_

The Helmsman had no idea, the impact of the phontons had launched _Enterprise_ on an out-of-control course Mayweather's systems couldn't bring themselves out of, and

A proximity alarm klaxoned!

_The Raptor?_ Travis's stomach twisted even further, _Great, that's all we need, the Klingons coming back around for a second shot at us, which will most definitely be the FINISHING shot!_

But as Mayweather's eyes locked onto the mostly-useless tactical display he instantly learned two things. One: the Klingon scout ship was just flaming space-dust now. And two: what had set the alarm off wasn't their debris, it was Talitha's sun. Or to put it more aptly, Talitha's _largest _sun, the big white one, known to Earth astronomers as Iota Ursae Majoris A. The twin photon impact and subsequent detonation had sent _Enterprise_ hurtling right down into it's sweeping gravity well.

_And right down to our doom,_ Travis's eyes went wide as the steaming ivory orb of the star expanded on the viewscreen and in a microsecond became the Helmsman's entire world...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Inside the turboshaft to the Bridge..._

The two Starfleet Officers and one Quantum Leaper clung to the rungs of their respective ladders like rats clinging to the beams of a squall-trapped schooner! Lt. Reed was sure that if it wasn't for the ship's inertial dampeners all three of them would have been torn from the walls of the square shaft like leaves from an oak tree and cast down into the nocturnal depths of the turbo-pit, bouncing like rubber balls off the sides until they struck bottom, with every bone in their bodies already reduced to the consistency of Yorkshire pudding.

_Bloody hell, that's a lot of metaphors! _Malcolm decided as he dug in harder with his knees to maintain his grip, then looked up at Dr. Beckett who was doing the same thing above him on the ladder.

_My, he has a very nice bum-not the time! Not the time! _and Malcolm turned his gaze sideways and focused on Commander T'Pol who's superior Vulcan strength seemed to be serving her quite well, because she was holding her bucking ladder with just one hand while the other gripped an opened communicator.

"The Bridge?" he shouted across the shaft.

She nodded, "Change of plans! You get Dr. Beckett back to C Deck!"

Sam looked up from his rungs, "Why?"

"Because things have taken a turn for the worse and _Enterprise_ may not be around much longer!"

Reed gaped, "Not much longer?"

"That is correct. We may not survive here in the future, but there still might be a chance for the past, if Dr. Beckett Leaps back!"

Malcolm refused to give in, "No! There must be something we can do-"

"Yes! You can do as I say and help Beckett, while I continue on to the Bridge."

"Commander, I don't think-"

"Just GO, Lieutenant!" shouted T'Pol as she pocketed the communicator and began to ascend again, "Get Sam to the transporter!"

"But-"

"Malcolm! That's an order!"

Reed scowled, but an order was an order, and he began to climb toward the third level. Above him, Sam cast a mournful glance back up the shaft at the shrinking Vulcan.

_And I didn't even get to say good-bye to her,_ Beckett grimaced as the turboshaft began to quake harder, _and here I'd hoped this Leap would be different, but nope, it's just more of the same. But I will remember them, T'Pol and Tucker, Phlox and Reed, this Leap was too important to forget, and danger to the space-time continuum or not, yes, I will remember them!_

His resolve strengthened as much as humanly possible, Sam loosened his grip on the rungs and followed Reed back up the shaft...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Ten minutes later on C Deck..._

Trailing Lt. Reed, Sam sprang free of the shaft and landed on the rocking floor. He fought the immense urge to find a corner to cower and crouch in, to anchor himself with the bulkheads against the growing vertigal waves assaulting his inner ear. But the transporter pad was now in sight, it was less then ten meters away, and if his plan worked he'd very soon be back in the year 1999 and never have to worry about being trapped aboard a down-spiraling spaceship ever again.

_That is, until I build myself one of these,_ Sam grinned, allowing himself the luxury of imagining doing just that, temporal paradoxes be dammed!

_Well, it's a nice fever dream, to be sure,_ he swallowed half-sadly as he set off down the quaking corridor after Reed, _anyway, considering all the different scientific and engineering advances that would have to first come into existence before I could even BEGIN to start generating just a blue-print for a vessel like this, that's all it is, just a fantasy, but... ..but maybe I could build a shuttlepod..._

"What are you smiling about?" asked Malcolm as the two of them reached the transporter and the Armory Officer reached for the control podium.

"Wait! Don't touch that." Sam caught Reed's wrist and gently tugged it back.

"What? Oh, right. Sorry."

"It's not exactly the same teleporter-"

"Transporter."

"Right, transporter. It's not the same as it was before, at least not really. But not to worry, I'm going to set the instruments to return to their original settings once I'm gone, leaving no trace behind of what I did."

"Good idea." said Reed, "Having this kind of technology at one's fingertips is frankly frightening, and I'm glad it's departing _Enterprise_ when you do."

Sam nodded in agreement, "But, Lieutenant, I'll still need you to operate the podium for me."

"Understood."

Sam typed a command into the apparatus and the transporter pad glowed to life, began to pulse with a shimmery blue-white light. He checked the power readings for any fluxes, found none, then nodded to himself and started undoing the front of his uniform.

Reed blinked, "Um, Doctor? What exactly are you doing?"

"Have to do this, um, heh, sans-clothing."

"You're-You're going to Leap naked?"

"Well, it's either that or chance Captain Archer catching on fire the moment he returns." Sam kicked off his boots, "I checked on these purple jumpsuits of yours and while they're flame-retardant, they aren't flame-_proof_. Normally I'd wear a skinsuit of fermitex, but you don't have any of that onboard, according to the cargo manifest."

Reed planted hands on his hips and scowled the undressing quantum physicist down, "And just how many of the ship's computer files have you read, Doctor?"

"Um...all of them?"

"_All_ of them?"

"Yeah. No offense, but at the time I was still trying to figure out why I'd Leaped here and was still operating under the impression that I was here to assist your crew, not the other way around." he chucked his t-shirt and turned back to the podium, as a number of warning lights had begun to flash. He typed a request into the keypad and waited for an answer.

"Something wrong?" Reed pulled his eyes from Sam's well-toned shoulders.

Beckett frowned as he gripped the podium to stay afoot through another bucking of the deck, "I don't know. Possibly. I'm getting some errant energy spikes here, like maybe the makeshift Accelerator I've jury-rigged into being here is causing some ionizing feedback within the field coils of your ship's nacelles."

Reed swallowed, "Don't know exactly what you just said, but many of the words really, really bothered me. Like 'errant energy' and 'makeshift'. Oh, and of course 'jury-rigged'. Yes, that one is most bothersome."

Sam shrugged, "Shouldn't be too hard to compensate for them, though." he fired up the first stage of the acceleration, "Just give me a sec-"

"Get AWAY from there!" shouted a voice down the corridor, and the two men turned to see a bedraggled Commander Tucker limping toward their position as fast as his bad knee could carry him!

"Trip?" gaped Reed, "Trip! What the _devil _happened to you!"

"Don't any of you folks ever think of packin a communicator? The internal coms down! I've been trying to get ahold of anybody and everybody on the upper deck here!"

Reed took a step toward the Chief Engineer, eying his bruises and cuts, "You really should be in Sickbay. Again, what happened-"

"Nevermind that!" Tucker reached them and pushed a surprised Sam away from the control podium, "Back off, Dr. Frankenstein! You tryin to get us ALL killed?"

"Huh?" the boxer-short wearing physicist gaped at the battered Tucker, "What?"

"I'm the Chief Engineer round these parts, Doc, _not_ you! And I checked up on your little tinkerin job on my ship, and guess what!"

"What?"

"What? What! I'll give ya a _what_, boy! If you time-jump out of here there's a ninety-two percent chance that the left-over power your rig-up has generated will overload my engines and destroy _Enterprise_ within minutes!"

Sam started then looked to the podium, "That's absurd! I accounted for all the excess energy, and arranged for it to dispersed into the auxiliary power cells. They're getting pretty low, in case you didn't realize."

But Trip shook his head, "No! That won't work! You musta WAY underestimated the amount of power you'll be generating here, 'cause according to my calcs the auxiliaries will only be able to absorb maybe a third of what will be left over, and then the remaining two thirds'll come shooting back down the feeds and-" the deck jerked upwards again, really hard this time, and Sam was knocked sideways into Reed, they tumbled to the deck, while Tucker staggered forward, pitched over the control podium with a strangled shout and fell onto the transporter pad.

And vanished in a dazzle of azure power!

"NO!" shouted Sam, but he was far too late...

**To be continued...**


	25. Part XXV

**A LEAP TO THE STARS**

**Part XXV - Back Where You Belong**

_The Project..._

The elevator doors split and Al jogged back into the Control Room, the bathrobe he was wearing swishing about his ankles.

"Okay, everybody ready?"

"I'm ready," said Tina from behind the console, "and I just talked to Captain Archer and he's in position too!"

"Then we're all good to go." Al took a deep breath, _at least, I hope we are..._

The Admiral's bombshell of a girlfriend eyed what he was wearing, "Al, you better have a fermi-suit on under there."

"Nope! Decided to do my first official Leap in the buff." he waggled his eyebrows lecherously, "Care to join me in the Accelerator, babe? Bet the experience will blow your mind!"

"Among other things..." Tina giggled, then her heart-shaped face grew solemn, "Oh, Al, do you really think this is going to work?"

"It had better, 'cause other then this hair-brained idea we're ALL out of options."

"But again, what if it doesn't? You won't even have an Observer"

"I'm trying to remain positive here, Tina, so please stop bringin me down. Careful, you're starting to sound like Dr. Beeks." he looked around as he stubbed out what might be his last cigar, "Hey, where IS the Queen of Drag, anyway?"

"Sleeping off a hangover. Boy, Al, is she gonna be_ ticked_ when she finds out all she's missed!"

"Yeah, well, maybe she won't be."

Tina frowned, "I don't understand."

"Don't worry about it, babe. You got the temporal coordinates all plugged in?" the PCT nodded, "Good, so let's get this over with." and Al stuck his handlink back into the console then caught up the sports jacket he'd left behind, fished in it's pocket and produced his secret weapon.

Tina gawked in amazement as he up-ended the mostly empty syringe and injected himself in the neck with it, "Omigod, Al! What did you just do?"

"Call it a little insurance against swiss-cheesing." and then with one last guilty look at the now completely-empty vial of Amritha Kaur's neural peptide reinforcer he chucked it in the waste basket, then shucked his robe and headed for the portal.

"Al!" Tina's still-worried cry held him back for a second, "I-I...maybe you shouldn't-"

"I gotta go, babe. Hold down the fort 'til I get back, okay?"

"Okay..." she sighed, and then Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci stepped into the Quantum Leap Accelerator...and vanished...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Enterprise_..._

_Okay, I don't wanna be Captain anymore,_ Hoshi's terrified mind wailed within her throbbing skull, _this just isn't any fun anymore! I liked it a whole lot better when the Klingons blew up far away and didn't try and take us with them!_

That's what Sato said internally, but externally it was a whole other story, because she was a Starfleet Officer and that's just the way it had to be.

"Helm!" she shouted as the _Enterprise_ spiraled deeper-and-deeper into the gravity well of Talitha's white sun, "TRAVIS! Do something! Pull us out of this!"

"I'm trying! But everything's dead!"

"What do you mean, everything's dead? Something has to work! Fix it! Or we're ALL going to be dead!"

"I'd love to, Captain, but I can barely hold onto my Station, let-alone work miracles on it!"

"Not good enough, Ensign!" Hoshi growled, "Not good enough, dammit! I'm making this a direct order, Travis! Come up with an idea and SAVE the ship!"

"Oh, well, if it's an order then-Um, NOPE! Still nothing I can do! Gosh, I feel just awful about it! Howsabout you Court Martial me? You know, right after the sun swallows us all up and we're down in HELL roasting alive!"

"Is that sarcasm? Are you being sarcastic to me, Ensign? Because that better not be sarcasm I'm hearing!"

As white light drenched the Bridge, Travis looked back over his shoulder across the badly-quaking deck at the acting badly acting-Captain, "You know what, Hoshi?"

"What?"

"You SUCK!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, Travis, well, you suck _worse_!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"YEAH!"

"Well, you know what, Hoshi?"

"WHAT!"

"Well, you suck the worsest!"

"That's not even a WORD!"

"It is now! Hey, you're a Linguist, make it into a new word! Oh, and while you're doing it, why not check on the spelling of SCREW-UP, 'cause that's what YOU...you...are...wait..." Travis trailed off and looked back to the viewscreen, then stared back across the Bridge again, this time at Security.

"What?" scowled Aduko, "You going to start in on me, too? Because I'm not as nice as Hoshi, Travis, I won't waste time with words, I'll just kick you in the face!"

"No! That's not it." Mayweather said as the bulkheads began to scream, "I...I..."

"He's got an idea!" grinned Hoshi, "See! I ordered you to come up with one and you did it! See! I'm the best acting-Captain EVER!"

"Yeah, you're the best..." sneered Travis as he planted feet against the front of the Helm and kicked-off. He landed on the deck a meter back and set off across the floor on his hands-and-knees, scrambling with all his strength against the shuddering plates, dark face intent on making it to the back of the Bridge.

Hoshi gaped at him as he past her center-mounted chair, "Wha-Where are you going? Get back to your Station!"

"No!"

"Are you making for the escape pods? You are! That's your idea? You DO suck the worsest!"

"Hoshi, would you just shut-up!" and catching hold of the railing Travis levered himself up and caught hold of the back of Security.

"Hey!" snapped Aduko, "This is my Station! Go find one of your own!"

"Not now, Aduko, just punch up the photonics! Three torpedoes!"

"Aw, but I wanna play too! How come just you and Hoshi get to argue like morons? I feel left out."

"You won't in another second if you don't quit playing around!"

"Yay! I'm part of it now!"

"Deserie! Just load the DAMN torpedoes!"

"Spoilsport."

"Are you three children just about finished?" asked a fourth voice, and all eyes slipped to the pried-open turboshaft, where a frown-eyed Commander T'Pol had just finished climbing free. "Now...let's hear this plan of yours, Ensign."

And Travis grinned...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_C Deck..._

"NO!"

Thrusting the Armory Officer off of him, Dr. Beckett sprang to his feet and dashed back to the transporter's controls, but he was too late, Commander Charles Tucker III was only a faded after-image, he was gone.

_He's gone...he-he Leaped..._

"Charles! Where did he go? Where!" Reed scrambled up and stared fitfully at the hauntingly-vacant transporter pad. "Oh _bollocks_..."

"Good word choice." Sam said darkly.

"Bring him back!"

"I-I can't..."

Reed grabbed Beckett by the arm and hauled him around, glared into his eyes, "What do you MEAN, you can't? You're the bloody genius who invented a blasted time-machine, you can do anything! So do it! Bring Tucker back! Do it NOW!"

Sam broke Reed's grip and pushed him back, "Get control of yourself! And I mean it, I can't bring him back! Not right now. I don't even know where he went!"

"Where he went? He went back to 1999! To your Project! Like YOU were supposed to do!"

"No! He didn't!"

"He didn't?" Reed didn't understand.

"NO! I haven't imputed the temporal coordinates yet! He Leaped randomly, just like...just like..."

_Just like I did,_ Sam swallowed, _the first time...the first time I Leaped..._

But Reed wasn't giving up that easily, "Then find him! Use that Imaging Chamber and find him! DO it!"

Sam shook his head, "I don't have the right equipment to do a search through time, I'd need my parallel hybrid computer and maybe a week in the Imaging Chamber, and even then-" his blue eyes saucered, "Oh my god, the Imaging Chamber!"

Reed scowled, "What about it?"

"Well, we don't have a Waiting Room here on _Enterprise_, so-"

"What the bleeding _hell_ is a Waiting Room!"

"The place the Leapee is shunted to, instead of appearing in the Quantum Accelerator."

"The Leapee? What, you mean the person Charles has swapped places with in history?" Malcolm licked his dry lips, _Charles has swapped places with somebody...somebody in history...and they're...and they're aboard this ship RIGHT NOW!_

"Where then?" Reed demanded, "Where would they be, if we don't have one of these Waiting Rooms?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! They'd be in the Imaging Chamber!"

Reed took off at a run, "I'll contact you when I know something! You get down to Engineering!"

Sam frowned, "Engineering? Why would I go-" an alarm sounded on his left and his eyes swiveled in their sockets to bear on the transport's control podium as it's indicators lit-up bright scarlet.

_Oh my god, the nacelles...they're going to overload. Tucker was right..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Stallions Gate, New Mexico, December 23rd, 1999..._

Blue lightning flared for an endless moment, then

"-and if this hybrid computer's report turns out to be actually true, if a man from the future has indeed materialized at the Project, then we will need to act fast to contain any...any...Amri? Amri, why have you stopped writing?"

Al blinked hard and fought to focus, looked down at his hands and saw that he was holding a ruled legal pad and a silver ballpoint pen. _Wha-did it work? Did I Leap? I-I don't remember...wait, yes I do! I DO! I remember everything!_

"Miss Carr!" snapped Senator Keller as the Military humvee bounced up the side of a sand-dune with a hum of electro-magnetic power, "I need you to pay attention. This matter is highly volatile!"

"Volatile? Heh, Todd, you don't know the _half _of it, pal." muttered Al as he peered down past his skirt-covered thighs at the metallic briefcase sitting between his feet. _I made it, I'm back in time before Kaur could reach the complex, and now...now I gotta make sure that never happens, which means doing whatever it takes!_

And with a blur of movement Al thrust his hand under the jacket of the confused bodyguard sitting beside him and yanked the man's Glock automatic free of it's shoulder holster.

"Stop the car! Stop it now!"

Keller gawked at him, "Have you gone MAD-"

"Yep!" Al dragged back the slide and waved the pistol dangerously, "I'm crazier then a lobster in a Nova Scotian stew-pot, and I'll plug anybody who doesn't do EXACTLY as I say!" and for emphasis he fired off a round, punching a hole through the transport's low ceiling!

The humvee instantly buzzed to a halt and keeping the gun leveled at the bodyguards, Al reached behind himself and fumbled open the door, "Now, nobody do anything stupid, alright? Let's all just remain calm here." Now out, he grabbed up the briefcase and slammed the door shut, then shot the Senator a look, "You really should research your employee's a little better before you hire them, Keller."

"Why are you doing this!"

"Why?" asked Al, and for a moment he looked thoughtful. _Why indeed..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Four hours in the future and fifty-two miles to the south..._

"Let me OUT of here!" the newly-reinstalled Waiting Room door shook mightily, "Open this door NOW!"

And to the woman's shock the door _did _slide open, revealing

"Not so fast! Stay where you are!" and the white-clad woman halted in mid-charge as her eyes locked on the barrel of the M-16 pointed directly at the center of her chest.

"Who...who are you?"

"Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise_, and you're Amritha Noonien Kaur, daughter of Khan Noonien Singh."

Amri stared back at him, her almond-shaped eyes now very wide, "But-But how do you know that? Wait, starship?"

"That's right. But don't worry about that, it's no concern of yours, because you're dead."

"I am?"

"Yes...you are..." and Archer pulled the trigger and emptied half the clip into her upper body.

As Kaur fell to the floor, awash in her own blood, Jonathan hit the door controls and stepped inside. The portal sealed back up and he tossed aside the rifle, sat on the edge of the dias and watched Amritha slowly bleed to death. He sighed and hunched his shoulders, waited for it all to be over.

_Calavicci better be right about this,_ Jonathan mulled sullenly as the woman he'd just executed exhaled for the very last time, _because if ever there was a night I didn't want to remember, it would be this one..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Four hours in the past and fifty-two miles to the north..._

"Why are you doing this!" demanded the Senator.

"Why?" asked Al, and for a moment he looked thoughtful.

"Because I'm an Augment, that's why." he said at last, and Keller gaped in shock.

"You are?"

The Admiral nodded, "Yep, it's true. My name's really Amritha Noonien Kaur and my father was Khan Noonien Singh himself. How's THAT for a shocker! And guess what I've got in this here briefcase? Times up, Keller, it's a nuclear bomb!"

All faces shifted to the slim chromed container and Al patted it's side, "In about ten minutes I'm going to be setting it off, so you'd better start running."

The Senator swallowed hard, "You-You're letting us go?" Al nodded, "But why? I mean, this doesn't-"

"-make any sense? Yeah, for you, pal, I don't think it ever will. Now go!"

And the humvee took off in a spray of sand and throttled away across the cold desert at high speed. Al watched them go until they were just a dot, then turned away and set the case down on a waist-high boulder, popped it's latches. He opened the lid and stared down at the three separated components, each nestled in protective grey foam.

"You don't look that scary at all," he muttered as he entered a command into the timing mechanism, "Because if you're not plugged together, then all that's left is the plastique triggering device, and that's barely got the power of five or six sticks of dynamite. But, you'll do the job."

And as the green numbers began to count back from ten, Al stepped back and looked up at the twinkling midnight stars.

"Good luck, Sam. Here's hoping that I'm still around in the future to lend you a helping hand."

Then the counter reached zero and

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

and Rear Admiral Calavicci turned the corner and ground to a sudden stop at the sight of the unexpected woman standing before the Waiting Room door, peering through it's rectangular observation window.

He quickly stubbed out his cigar, "Donna? Um, heh, what are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be, uh, up at the party?"

"Ziggy asked me to come down here." Dr. Elesee said in an oddly-disquieting tone.

"He did?" Al scowled, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with her, Ziggy shouldn't have done-" he broke off as a shimmer of light flared through the window and painted Donna's face blue for a long moment, then it vanished.

Al gaped in surprise, "Wha-he's gone? The guy already Leaped?"

"Yes," said Donna, "I guess he has..."

"But-But that's impossible! This new guy just got here! And Sam just got _there_! And-And Ziggy hasn't even located Sam, or even told me what he was there to do in the past! Hell, I haven't even gone into the Imaging Chamber yet!"

"Al...what's done is done..." Dr. Elesee said and she closed the observation window and headed off, back down the corridor.

The Admiral watched her go, still very lost, "But-But the guy! The one Sam Leaped into! Did you see him? Who was he?"

Donna didn't slow, in fact she actually increased her pace a bit, "You know, Al, I don't think it really matters anymore."

Then she was gone, and all of a sudden Admiral Calavicci's quantumly-accelerated mind started to remember. To remember _everything_.

"Sam...Archer..._Enterprise_-Khan!"

_Holy..._

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_The far future..._

"So, I take it you three have come up with a plan to get us out of this?" T'Pol eyed the pulsating white rectangle that was the soon-to-be overloading forward viewscreen.

"Possibly, Commander." replied Travis, and he moved round to stand beside Ensign Aduko behind Security, "A Klingon torpedo hit knocked us into the gravity well, and I'm betting a barrage of our own photonics might knock us back out, if timed and aimed correctly."

"Might?"

"Will." he corrected, "They will."

"Well then," said T'Pol as she took the center seat from a very grateful Hoshi, "make it so."

And he did.

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

The photonic detonation was massive, it flared outwards for nearly a thousand kilometers, kicking-off a solar flare that could be seen for light-years, and just ahead of it's wake the starship _Enterprise_ came spinning free, then fired her now working thrusters and jumped to high Warp, leaving the Talitha Star System far behind.

Down in Main Engineering, Lt. Mendez looked up from the central console and breathed a sigh of relief. "It worked! I don't know how you did it, sir, but you did it! Seriously, I don't think Commander Tucker could have done any better!"

And behind the aura of his great-grandfather, Sam Beckett smiled sadly, "It was the least I could do, considering it was my modifications that nearly triggered the overload. At least we put the power to good use." and he stared into the intermix flux swirling behind the Warp Core's grating.

_I'm not going to remember any of this, am I?_ He turned away from the group of Engineers and shrugged his shoulders. _Maybe that's a good thing, because I think it would hurt too much knowing I can never come back here to this ship, to these people. It's been a rare gift getting this look into what could be, and I wonder if I'll ever travel into the future again? Are there others among my bloodline who need my help? Or, is Jonathan Archer the last? I guess only time will tell..._

He really wished he_ could _stay though, if only to help the _Enterprise_ crew bring back Commander Tucker, but Dr. Samuel Beckett could already feel the quantum energies building within him, taking hold and spreading across his body and soul, and then

then he was _gone_...

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Above..._

The C Deck door slid back and Reed shot across the threshold, jerked to a halt and exhaled in relief, because there was Trip, lying on his back in the middle of the makeshift Imaging Chamber floor, uniform steaming and torn, but otherwise fine except for a very confused look upon his round face.

"Wha...what h-happened?"

Malcolm crouched beside Tucker and helped him into a sitting position, "There was a transporter accident but it's okay now, Commander-you're all right! Dr. Beckett must have messed the connection up, you were just transported to this room, not hurtled back through time and space."

"T-Time and...space?"

Reed peered into Trip's eyes, suddenly concerned about neural damage, "You _are_ okay, aren't you, Commander?"

"Wh-Why...why..."

"...Why? Why what?"

"...why do you keep calling me Commander?" asked the other man, without any trace whatsoever of Trip's trademark accent, "I'm not a Commander. I'm...I'm...wait, why can't I remember my own name?"

And Malcolm's gut went ice cold.

_It's not Tucker. It's...it's somebody else..._

"Oh, bugger..."

******\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Elsewhen..._

The senior members of Project Quantum Leap stood on the top deck of the complex, their solemn faces raised to the heavens as night slowly faded.

"...Al?" Tina managed to ask at last.

"Yeah, honey?" the Admiral puffed slowly on the tail-end of a stogie and decided for the thousandth time that this cigar would be his last, while knowing deep-down that there would be a thousand more to come before they finally claimed his lungs and sent him onward to his final reward. "What is it?"

"Did all that...did it really happen?"

"Yep. It really happened..." As per protocol he had filled his people in on what had-or now hadn't-transpired. To say they had been shocked would be an understatement, which is why the Admiral had brought them all outside into the cool night air to do it.

Sammy-Jo shuffled her feet and tugged the sweater tighter around her shoulders, "But it all sounds sorta, you know, crazy! The Project was invaded, a man from the future, people died..." her eyes flicked to Donna, then back, "...b-but now they're alive, it's all just...just _insane_! You know what I mean, sir?"

"Yeah, honey, I know..." Al shot a lazy smoke ring up into the frosty air as the last star faded from the sky.

"But the whole state, it was supposed to be-to be destroyed!"

"Nothing is ever 'supposed to be'. It's what we make it, day-to-day." Donna said softly, "The concept of destiny is a crutch for the weak minded."

Al nodded, "You know, Voltaire once said that history is just a long succession of useless cruelties. Well, not tonight."

"Amen..." nodded Tina.

But that still wasn't enough to quell the concerns of Sam Beckett's once again in-the-dark progeny, "All that's well and good, but what about this Captain...Captain..." Fuller frowned, "Um, what did you say his name was again, Admiral?"

Al cleared his throat, "Um, Hoshi. His name was Captain Hoshi."

"Right. What about Captain Hoshi and his crew? In their original history, New Mexico was wiped off the face of the Earth, but now that it hasn't been, what's the impact on _his_ future?"

"Sadly, we'll most likely never know. But hey, honey, that's the way the cookie crumbles here at the Project."

"But-"

Gooshie stopped shuffling his feet and spoke up, "Sammy-Jo, Thucydides called history 'philosophy learned from examples'. What that means to me is that five hours ago I was shot, but thanks to Dr. Beckett and the Admiral here that bullet never left it's weapon."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm going to learn from the example and start living for the moment. There's a Christmas party still in full-swing down in the Cafeteria, and if you'll follow me down there I'd like to buy you a glass of punch."

Sammy-Jo smiled, "Spiked?"

"You know it."

"Got yourself a deal."

"I want one too." grinned Tina and she followed after the two programmers, then paused for a moment, "Al, baby? You comin? You still owe me that dance, starship Captain from the future or not."

"Sure, honey." he nodded with a wan smile, "I'll be down in a minute."

A moment later the elevator slid shut, leaving him and Dr. Elesee alone on the veranda.

"He was here again, Al." Donna said quietly, and toyed with the end of her shawl.

"Yeah...he was here again..." the Admiral replied sagely, "And he'll be here _again_, I swear to you. And next time will be the last time, Donna, 'cause he'll be here to stay. No more fake-outs, I swear to you."

She sighed, "You know what, Al? You could sell snow to the Eskimos."

"Yep," he replied as he stubbed out his cigar, "ice cream too. Goodnight, Donna."

"Goodnight, Al." then he was gone and she was alone once more.

Well, mostly.

"_Dr. Elesee?_" the jelly-like cubes of her wristwatch spangled like a molten rainbow.

"Yes, Ziggy?"

"_Somebody new has appeared in the Waiting Room. Should I alert the Admiral?_"

"Not just yet. He owes Tina a dance. I'll handle the arrival for the time being."

"_Understood._" replied the computer. There was a long pause, then "_...Donna?_"

The woman blinked in surprise. She couldn't remember the hybrid computer ever addressing her by the first name before. "Yes, Ziggy? What is it?"

"_.__.__.I miss him too. I-I just wanted you to know..._"

Donna swallowed against the lump in her throat, "Thank-you, Ziggy. Please tell the Corporals I'll be down in a minute."

"_Of course, Dr. Elesee._" the watch went dark.

And under the beginning of a brand-new dawn, just for once, the tears did not fall...

**The End...for now...**


End file.
